Hell On Earth
by Unknown Brilliance
Summary: Darry never decided to take care of Sodapop and Ponyboy, so what happens to them? Mostly Ponyboy.Warning! child abuse, rape, possible swearing
1. Chapter 1

-1Chapter 1

Darry's a jerk. I hate him, I really, really do. Our parents died, and today I'm sitting in the back of his truck as he heads over to the boys' home to dump us. I'm currently sitting with my arms crossed over my chest, staring (glaring) out the window. I haven't said a word since they died three days ago. I cried silently too. Darry doesn't care, he's going to go to college and 'make something of himself', is how he put it. Soda's sitting next to Darry, being far from quiet. Actually, he's barely stopped screaming since after the funeral, when our 'brother' told us that he planned on leaving us. They've been in an argument since then, which was three hours ago. We've only been in the car for an hour. Darry's just holding the steering wheel real tight, his face red with rage as Soda screams at him. I don't even know what they're talking about anymore, I tune them out. Soda turns to me, his face falling from rage to compassion.

"Pony, don't worry, baby. I'm going to take care of you." We both know it's a false hope, but he says it anyway. My brother Sodapop is two years older than me, he's always optimistic like that, even after living on Tulsa's North Side for fourteen years. They will probably split us up and the extent of our relationship will be occasional phone calls. We're brothers, we're closer than anything. They're going to rip us apart.

The truck pulls to a stop in front of a large, stone, rectangular building. Soda jumps out abruptly and slams the door. I watch Darry close his eyes and I know he's trying not to get angry. What does he have to be angry about? He's going to college and living his dream. I think my heart will break from the tragedy (sarcasm). I look at him for a minute before climbing out of the truck quietly and closing the door, saying in almost a whisper,

"I love you, Darry." I have no idea why I say it. But Darry's face looks almost guilty for a minute. I grab mine and Soda's bags and run up the stairs to meet him. He's ringing the doorbell. I shrug his duffel off my shoulder and hand it to him wordlessly. He smiles at me slightly and throws it over his shoulder, putting a hand on my shoulder just as the door opens. A lady looks at us in boredom,

"You must be the Curtis boys." She says, to which we nod. She turns and starts walking without comment, we shuffle behind her. She throws open one door, there's a small bed and a chest of drawers, the whole room's white and reminds me of three things: a hospital, an asylum, or a jail. None of them are pleasant. She motions to Soda,

"This is your room. All children between the ages of thirteen and fifteen are on this floor. You may not leave this floor except for meals, which is served in the cafeteria down two flights of stairs." Soda looks at me, and I ease my shoulder out of his reach, making myself look brave. He puts his hand back on my shoulder and looks me in the eye,

"You be good, Ponyboy." I nod, fighting the tears in my eyes. He enters the room and shuts the door abruptly.

She leads me up two flights of stairs and throws open a door that reveals a room identical to Soda's. I walk in and hear the door close. I look around the room before heaving a sigh and setting up camp, wondering how long I'll be here. I lay back in my bed and stare at the ceiling idly, having nothing better to do.


	2. Chapter 2

AN: Hey, just because I forgot last time, I want to warn you all that this story WILL contain child abuse and non-graphic rape. There is also some parts with swearing, so beware. Thanks.

Chapter 2

I've been a walking zombie for the past two days. There's nothing to do. I haven't seen Soda and probably won't see him until family visitation day a week from now. I have to wait for family visitation day to see a brother in the same building as me. The bell for third lunch out of four rings and I slam my book shut thankfully, walking briskly into the cafeteria. Everything is split up by ages here; classes, lunches, rooms, everything. Even the tables at lunch. There's four tables. On each is a plaque. The first says "4/8/13/17", the second says "5/9/14/18" the third says "6/10/15" and the last says "7/11/12/13". If you're the age on the plaque, that's where you sit. I slide into a seat and await the trays of food brought out by lunch ladies. One of the perks of being the oldest in your age group, mine is from eight to twelve, is that you always get first pick. The worst, around here, is that the older you get, the worse your chances are for getting adopted. Everybody wants a cute three year-old, not a teenager with an attitude. The food comes and we're eating when Ms. Ruddibaker walks into the cafeteria, then the room becomes completely silent. Ms. Ruddibaker is the one that comes for you when there's a family that wants to adopt you. Almost everybody in the room is still young enough to be praying 'let it be me'. But I'm thinking, 'anybody but me'. Of course, she walks right up to me and orders somberly,

"Come with me, Ponyboy." I'm aware of all the jealous stares I'm receiving, I've only been here for two days and most of these kids have been here for years. I walk beside her numbly as she leads me to the office in the main hall, labeled 'The Adoption Room' or 'Point of No Return' by the kids here. She opens the door and I sit across from a couple, a lumbering man and a petite woman. The woman smiles kindly at me and says in a voice that is as flowing and sweet as honey,

"Oh, he's perfect, isn't he? I saw his picture and I just knew, that he was right for us. He's the perfect age, Hugh. He's everything I wanted in a son." The man looks at me appraisingly,

"You're right Marie, he'll do perfectly." I keep my head looking at the ground, "A little shy, but that's alright. I never wanted an obnoxious one anyway." He adds as an after thought. I know now that these people are going to be my 'parents'. I look at Ms. Ruddibaker,

"Please, ma'am," I begin in a quiet voice, "can I see my brother before I go, give him my address so I can write him?" I plead desperately, I don't want to lose my only remaining contact with my family. Maybe I'll write the gang once I'm out of here. Ms. Ruddibaker nods slowly and turns to the parents,

"I hope you don't mind my indulgence, but he really has been a very good boy, and it is his brother…" the woman shakes her head immediately,

"Oh, of course, go right ahead." I smile for the first time in the last week, ever since my parents died. I stand up and Ms. Ruddibaker leads me down the complex hallway system and into a small room on the third floor, where she sticks her head in. The teens in this room don't look up hopefully. Their expressions clearly say, 'why can't you leave us alone'. I step into view and Soda leaps out of his seat, charging at me happily,

"Pony, what're you doing here? You don't turn thirteen for a year!" I almost break down sobbing at his happiness. I can't bear to be the one to ruin it, but I have to be.

"Soda, they've…they found someplace to put me. I'm going to be adopted." I choke out finally. Soda dissolves into hysterics, holding me to him sadly.

"No! I've lost everything else! Everything! I won't lose you too!" He screams, tearing me out of the reach of Ms. Ruddibaker. She looks impatient and she scolds him,

"Sodapop, you should be happy for your brother, don't make a scene. Anyway, I'll give you his number and address, you can write as often as you like and even call him once in a while. Soon it'll be you, don't worry." It looks like that's exactly what he's worried about. I hug him to me and whisper comfortingly,

"Don't worry, Soda, I'll be ok. We'll manage." Soda nods absently as he strokes my hair lovingly,

"I promise baby, this'll be over soon. I'll get a job as soon as they let me drop out and I'll save money 'til I turn eighteen. Then I'll come get you and we'll live together. I'll take care of you, I promise baby." I have tears running down my face now, silently. I hold him to me for the last time and tell him,

"I believe you, Pepsi-Cola." He smiles at Dad's nickname and returns to his seat, seemingly unembarrassed that these five kids saw him breakdown over his little brother. Maybe they're his friends, maybe they just don't think crying is a sign of weakness. Maybe they're older brothers too. I contemplate this as I shove my meager belongings into my duffel and allow Ms. Ruddibaker to lead me to the front door, where Hugh and Marie are waiting.

"He's ready, Mr. and Mrs. Lilc." She tells them serenely. Hugh Lilc looks at me impassively in his brown eyes, looking down at me from his intimidating height. I'm used to big people, my father and Darry were hulks. But compared to Hugh, they weren't any bigger than me. Mrs. Lilc looks at me as well, eyes brimming with tears of gratitude and happiness. I decide then that at least I like her, she seems to think I'm a gift from God. Let her think that. Soda's the only one who thinks that anymore. Soda's the only person in the world that loves me, and I don't even have him.


	3. Chapter 3

-1Chapter 3

I sit in the car, the ride has been silent so far. Suddenly the car swerves into a parking lot, the house is dilapidated and sad looking. I wonder if this is home. The man, Mr. Lilc, digs into his pocket and brings out a wad of bills, shoving them at his wife. The woman puts them in her pocket briskly and steps out of the car without a word. The man looks at me with a sneer, "The state is stupid, you know that? They thought some whore was a sweet woman." His smile grows, "They never even bothered to run a check on either of us. Otherwise they would've seen my record, too bad for you." My stomach tightens and I look at him silently. "Welcome to hell, little boy." I don't doubt him. The way he looks at me, with such loathing and pleasure at the same time, makes me feel uncomfortable.

"What are you going to do with me?" His hand flies into my face without warning.

"Don't ask questions." He snaps, pulling out of the driveway. I curl up in my seat dejectedly and look out the window at the scenery flying by. My heart is full of fear, and I feel very childish as I imagine my older brothers flying in to save me.

I walk into the huge, sprawling ranch with a sense of awe. I look at the man, seeing what I'm supposed to do now. He waves me to him and rips my duffel out of my hand, marching down the hall quickly. I follow him silently until he wrenches a door open and throws my bag into the room. I walk in and the door snaps shut behind me. I jump at the sound and then take a moment to look at my new room. It's nothing special. There's a small bed with new blue sheets, a metal fold-out table for a desk, and the walls are white and the floors are old gray carpeting. There's a small closet that I start unpacking my clothes into. I sit down on the bed and wish in vain for my bookshelves full of books in my old room at home. I don't know where they are, Darry might've sold them for all I know. He's going to sell the house. The place we grew up, where our parents breathed, he's going to sell it as if it means nothing to him. Maybe it doesn't. The door flies open and his hands grab my shirt and throw me to the ground,

"Don't ever let me catch you just sitting around, I'll give you plenty to do, boy." He admonishes, sending a kick into my ribs, causing me to yelp in pain. He laughs and drags me upright by the hair, pushing me out the door and talking harshly, "Now, I'll tell you something, boy, I run things tight. You do your chores, stay busy, and do as you're told, you may not die here. Understand?" I nod at this blatant threat. He continues, "As for your chores, you are expected to make all the meals, do all the housework, feed the animals, mow the lawn once a week, take out the trash daily, and whatever else I can think up day to day. You're going to get strong, boy. I have rules as well. No speaking unless you are spoken to. You address me and any other man that walks into this house as sir. You obey any order from anybody that walks into this house without question. Those are the basics, do I make myself clear?"

"Yes" I answer meekly, he wheels his hand around and slams across my face, sending me flying into the wall. I look at him as his face turns red,

"What did I tell you?" I think hard for a minute and mumble,

"I'm sorry, sir, I meant, Yes sir." He drags me off the floor,

"I have only one punishment in this house, boy." I bet I can guess what it is. He drags me into the kitchen, which I look around distractedly. When his arm pulls me over his knee, I remind myself that I really must start paying attention. I cry out in surprise as something lands into the seat of my pants. I look at the clock in concentration, trying not to yell any more. I watch the minutes change and let single drops pour out of my eyes. I struggle uselessly, but it seems to make him madder. "You shouldn't have done that." He hisses, and a breeze hits me as he lowers my pants and underpants in one fell swoop. I wait anxiously for his hand, but it doesn't come, instead I feel the snap of leather and cry out. I can't help myself as I continue to moan and cry. Finally, after half an hour since being put over his knee, he brings me back into a standing position. He looks at me,

"You'll do. You need some work, but you'll do." He doesn't explain, but he points down the hall, where my room is, and I trudge there without a word. Silence is gold. Say sir, lesson learned.

I look at my face in the mirror hanging above my desk, examining it critically. I have the beginnings of a bruise covering the right side of my jaw and my left cheek. I smirk a little, Two-Bit's voice saying in my head 'It makes you look tough', that's what he says to Johnny whenever he has a bruise. I mentally slap myself for comparing myself to Johnny. This is nothing like that. He gets hit for no reason, I was being punished. It's different, I tell myself, I've just got to remember the rules and I'll be fine. I sit down and write a letter to Soda, knowing he's probably worried about me already.

_Dear Soda,_

_Hey this is Ponyboy, but I guess you probably already knew that, huh? Well, I'm doing ok and I've settled in. It turns out the lady who was supposed to be his wife is actually more like a permanent fiancée, but I like Marie well enough. Hugh is real quiet, but he kind of scares me a little. I guess it's because he's so big. I suppose I'll get used to it. I hope you're doing alright and not causing too much trouble (not that I expect you not to). Write me back._

_Love your FAVORITE brother,_

_Ponyboy Curtis._

I put it inside an envelope I find in my duffel bag, I brought some with me when I was told to pack. I knew I was going to have to write. I brought the paper too. And the photograph, which I am now holding in my hands. I stare at it, imprinting their faces in my mind. Dad, dark and tall and handsome, with kind eyes that make you want to pour out your soul. A body that has worked for a living and seen hardship. A mind that doesn't judge and has patience. That was how my father was. A woman stands beside him, the only female in the picture holds herself with dignity and grace. Her golden blonde hair shimmers and her eyes sparkle with happiness, putting a hand on the smallest boy, who stands in front of her, in a protective gesture and another on a boy that looks exactly like her in male form in a stern, calming way. The youngest boy was me, I smile at the camera without shame, being too young to realize that doesn't look cool. My clothes are big and scruffy, but I don't seem to have a care in the world. I'm happy with my family and content with my life. I lean trustingly on my brother, the source of my mother's bit of unease. He had wanted to stand on his head, but decided against it when I leaned against him. Darry's at the end of the line of us three, standing without actually touching anybody. Darry never liked physical contact unless he was in a fight or playing football, then he enjoyed it. He stands as a miniature of Dad, in all except his eyes. His eyes are blue-green, looking at the camera with a cool expression that clearly shows he was forced to do this. A blonde is next to me, again far away from others and staring at the camera with contempt. Dally only agreed to be in the picture because Mom asked him to, and he could never tell her no. There's a boy sitting at Soda's feet, around his age, looking intimidating and tough even as he looks up at the camera with a wry smirk. Between me and Soda is a boy about my height, dark and a bit sad looking, even as he smiles shyly. That's Johnny. Then Two-Bit stands in front of me, hiding the large gap between me and Dallas. He smiles broadly and hooks his fingers into his jean loops. That's my gang, my family. It was taken about a year ago on a whim. I smile at it and fold it up hurriedly as I hear footsteps coming toward my room. I stick it in my pocket and stand, waiting.


	4. Chapter 4

-1Chapter 4

I realize now that I don't actually like summer all that much. It means being at home all the time, with him. He hasn't left at all, and I've got the bruises to prove it. I never do seem to get anything right, he's always hitting me for something. Now I'm hauling rocks pointlessly. One day he wants them at the top of the hill in the backyard, the next he wants them lining the garden in the front. These rocks aren't small either, they're huge rocks that I can only carry one at a time and there's tons of them. It's a waste of time, really, but I do it because he tells me to. Today they'd look best at the top of the hill next to a tree on the far side of the lawn. I've been moving rocks for hours and I'm only half-way done. I hear him call my name and run in, looking at him anxiously. He has the phone in his hand,

"It's your brother." He says flatly. I nod silently and take the phone in shaking hands.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Ponyboy, I called to tell you that I've been adopted, so we can see each other more now. The people I live with are really nice, Pony. I still live in Tulsa, too, so I see the guys all the time. We're going to have to get together some time, I know you only live an hour and a half away. I'll give you my number. So, how've you been?" Soda says this all in one breathe, so I know he's excited. I fake enthusiasm,

"That's great Soda! I'm so happy for you. What're your parents like?"  
"Their names are Chris and Emily Hudgins, Chris is around Dad's age, but he's more scholastic than athletic."

"How do you know a word like scholastic?"

"I lived with you for twelve years, didn't I?" The use of the past tense sobers our mood considerably. I laugh,

"Go on"

"Well, he's nice and he likes me well enough, but his wife, she's so sweet, she absolutely adores me, I think." I laugh,

"The women can't help loving you, Sodapop." He sighs and says dramatically,

"I can't help my curse." I laugh as he does and I say,

"Well, I'll take your number and we'll definitely get together sometime." He rattles a number off, which I memorize. I hang up the phone, but he grabs my shoulder and takes the phone off the hook, smashing it into my face and breaking my nose. Blood pours out, but I don't make a sound. I've learned what pain is by now, a broken nose doesn't even compare. I barely even blink. A month of pain will do that to you.

I mop up my 'goddamned mess' as he called it before completing the rest of my chores, I make lunch, sweep the hardwood floors, vacuum the carpets, clean my room, wash the dishes, do the laundry, mow the lawn, move the rocks again, feed the three dogs and two horses. I pet them quietly as I muck the stalls, leading them outside and exercising them. I just run beside them with their leads in my hands, I'm a pretty fast runner. Every time I look at them I think how Soda would love them, but then feel bad because that's like wishing he was here with me, in hell. I don't want that. I groan as I'm called back inside the house. I put the horses in their freshly cleaned stalls.

There's five men standing with him when I enter the house. I put my hands in my pocket and look down,

"Yes sir?" I ask meekly. He motions to me roughly,

"That's the boy." The men all look at me, they look normal enough, varying sizes. There's a short, fat man with balding hair. Another is tall and wiry with curly black hair. There's a stately old man and a young, muscular one not old enough to hold the beer in his hand. The last looks like the hoods I'm used to, skin stretched over lean muscle, slouched and looking like a panther. He's young too, but the first reminds me more of a Soc, built like a lion and bluntly grand. I look at them as they look back at me appraisingly. He puts out his hand and surprising amounts of money are given to him. The men then turn to me, the fat one says eagerly,

"Where?"

"The basement, all the materials are already there." His voice is calm and serene, now I'm looking around in panic. The two younger ones grab me and drag me down into the basement. The old man and the stick go over to a rusty cabinet and open it. There's straps, paddles, boards, knives, chains, brooms, bats, rulers, and an iron in there, along with a thick braided whip. My stomach sinks as the fat one shoves me down and sits on top of me. I can't breath.

"Take off his clothes." The man instructs the other two, who are handed knives and they busily set about their task. Then other instruments are taken out and they pass me around, working me over with their weapon of choice. The Soc takes a board, the old man a broom, the fat one a paddle, the greaser a chain, and the thin one a ruler. I bleed and hurt, I yelp and cry. They laugh. Their weapons drop to the ground and I dizzily sigh in relief. Then they drag out a chair and I'm thrown over a knee, a hand slapping into my naked behind repeatedly. They take turns doing this as well. The stick's bony hand is soft and ineffective, so he has the others hold me down as he pressed the iron into my skin. The old man doesn't hit me, he runs his hands across my body.

I wake up in the basement, wondering where I am. I realize I am naked and memories flood into my young mind. I shiver from them and get up before realizing that I will have to go through the house like this. I sigh, recognizing I have no other choice. When I open the door to the basement, he turns and looks at me with a smile,

"You are going to make me very rich." He states, looking at me in glee. He nears toward me and purrs, "And _very_ happy." Pain again, the shame is unbearable as he rapes me on the kitchen floor. All the pain, all the pain…


	5. Chapter 5

AN: Hey, everyone, thanks for the great reviews. I'm going to leave you with an omnious warning...don't get your hopes up.

P.S: I don't own anybody, except regretfully Mr. Lilc. I do have to deal with him. He sleeps in a pretty cage with steel bars. He's mad because I 'lost' the key...

Chapter 5

I hold Johnny's letter in my hand. Mr. Lilc has gone to a bar to get a drink, so I'm alone for the first time in almost three months. It's a glorious feeling to be free of fear, even if I'm still tensely awaiting a slamming door. I open it slowly and unfold the contents, laying back on my bed and beginning to read.

_Dear Ponyboy,_

_How're you doing, man? Things have shaped up a lot since Soda came back to town, Steve's stopped drinking so much and Two-Bit's a little happier. It'd be better if you could come back, though. We're beginning to think you've forgotten us, Pony. You could probably sneak away for one weekend, couldn't you? Aren't we worth getting grounded over? Don't mean to sound so mean, but I miss my best friend. Call Two-Bit's house if you decide something._

_Your Buddy Johnny._

I bite my lip and decide right then that I'll do it. I hastily put on a jacket, grab money for the bus and a phone call, pack up my book bag with clothes, and write a note to him, explaining that I'll be back Monday. School starts in two weeks, my birthday's in a day, but I won't bring it up. It's enough I get to spend the day happily before the pain. I run out the door and skirt through the streets to the bus station, grabbing the bus that goes to the town bordering Tulsa. I sit in the back and watch the scenery, memorizing escape routes in my mind, in case I should ever need to get out and can't take the bus. I get off at the last stop and I put my plan into motion. I set my bag behind a corner and walk back to the bus bench, tears streaming down my face and I whimper slightly. I thank God that I can look much younger than my age, that I haven't hit my growth spurt yet. The lady next to me turns in concern,

"Are you alright, honey?" I nod in fear,

"Y-yeah…my brothers said we was playing a new game, and that I should take this bus 'til it stops and come back. They forgot to give me money for the ride back, though. Daddy's gonna be so mad at me…" I explain through my fake tears. She frowns and asks,

"How old are you and your brothers?"  
"My brothers are fourteen and seventeen, I'm ten." She scowls and hands me some money,

"There you are, child. Tell your brothers they ought to be ashamed of themselves, the very idea! You're such a sweet child too!" She gets on the next bus and I smile at her, thanking her silently for believing my bluff. Now I have enough money to get to Tulsa. I grab my bag and get on the bus to Tulsa. I then stop at a payphone and call the Matthews' place.

"Hello?" Two-Bit's voice carries over the phone. I say happily,

"Hey, Two-Bit, you'll never guess where I am." He laughs,

"What have you done, Ponyboy Curtis?" There's immediate shouting at the mention of my name, mostly questions. "Calm down, I haven't gotten there yet." Two-Bit tells them all impatiently.

"I'm in Tulsa, I'll be at your house in about fifteen minutes."

"See you then." I hang up and start the walk.

Now that a Mustang's tailing me, I'm thinking it's not such a good idea to be walking. I could've gotten them to come get me and just endured Steve's moaning about the trouble I cause. Steve don't like me. I start to run as the car swerves and the guys tumble out. There's five of them, and they surround me instantly. I fight them off courageously, feeling almost thankful for my new strength and stamina. But, in the end, they're in high school and I'm going into the eighth grade, and there's five of them. One of them pulls out a blade, and that's when I start screaming, I know they could kill me. The punches and kicks I took without complaint. Those I could handle. They aren't going to kill me. I scream in a frenzy,

"Soda! Soda! Help me!" They cuss and one cuts into my neck a little.

"Shut him up! Shut the kid up!" Another yells in panic. A rag is stuffed into my mouth and the knife goes even deeper. I gasp and try to choke out the rag, eventually spitting it out. They continue to beat their fists into my body, but all I can think of is the knife at my throat. I give it everything I have then,

"SODA! DALLY! JOHNNY! TWO-BIT! STEVE! SOMEBODY HELP ME!" Feet come pounding from somewhere, eventually, and I stay on the ground for a moment before I get up and wipe the blood from my neck distractedly. Soda tilts my neck to look at the cut as the rest of the gang throws trash at the escaping car. His concerned eyes appraise me carefully,

"They pull a blade on you?" I nod and wipe up the blood again. He brings out a rag and wets the end of it with his tongue, cleaning my wound carefully. It feels good to have somebody care about you. The rest of the gang comes back and I smile,

"Thanks" they nod,

"No problem" Two-Bit says flippantly, and I know he honestly doesn't mind. Dally cusses the Socs out,

"It's bad enough they jump some kid their own age when they're outnumbered. But you're just a little kid! Gutless cowards…" he continues to call them every name under the sun, but the words no longer turn my ears red. I've been called most of those things by Hugh at one point or another. I amble with them when Steve says bitterly,

"What the hell are you doing walking the streets by your lonesome anyhow?" The gang all fix him with glares, saving me the trouble. We go into the lot and toss around the football; it's me, Soda, and Two-Bit against Johnny, Steve, and Dally. The others end up winning, but that's hardly the point. It was just for fun anyway. None of us take football all that serious. Darry sure did, whoever had him on their team was a shoe-in. Darry never half did anything, he didn't know the meaning of playing for fun. He plays to win. And he did, always. We laugh and walk home companionably, Johnny and I lagging behind the others, jokingly wrestling in the streets.

"So, how'd you get here, Pony?" Johnny asks me. I shrug,

"I kind of stole some money from Mr. Lilc, enough for one bus and a phone call. Then I gave this old lady a sob story about my older brothers sticking me on a bus." Johnny laughs hardily,

"What did you say?" I start the waterworks and recite my story dramatically, Johnny's laughing like crazy. I realize suddenly that the gang is looking at me and blush,

"What?" Soda's staring,

"Where'd you learn to lie so good?" I shrug, and Johnny looks at me carefully,

"So, Pony, how long do you think you'll be grounded?" I look away and say in a calm voice,

"Don't know. Probably won't be able to sit down for awhile though." That gets them red.

"What?!" I shrug again at Soda's outrage,

"He's more of a 'spare the rod, spoil the child' type of guy." I explain, "Don't worry, I don't get myself in trouble too often."

"What about his wife?"

"He don't have a wife, I told you Soda, she's more of a permanent, well, actually she kind of left, so not that permanent, fiancée." I shrug it off with a smile, and Soda frowns.

I look at my face in the mirror and grin at the beginnings of yet another bruise. I've got on a pair of jeans, a muscle shirt, and a jean jacket, so they can't see the others. Most of my face is free of real noticeable ones as well, but if there were I'd explain it away somehow. By tomorrow they'll blend in. I walk out of the bathroom and sit down at the table with the others, and so the fight for food ensues when Mrs. Matthews puts the food on the table. It's been awhile since I've had real good food, my skills are limited to pastas, pre-prepared food, and things that come in a box. I eat the homemade food with relish.

"The food ain't going to run away kid." Two-Bit laughs. I smile and dig in more. The gang is eating just as much as I am, so I don't care. I love homemade food. They start piling into the living room to watch TV. I start picking up plates mechanically. Mrs. Matthews smiles,

"Thanks honey." I shrug, it doesn't make much of a difference to me. I smile as Emily, Two-Bit's little sister, waltzes into the room. She smiles at me, the kid's always liked me for some reason. She's six, she's real cute. I pick her up and set her on the counter, she looks at me carefully.

"Ponyboy, what happened to your face?" I make a face at her as I run the water,

"What's wrong with my face?"

"Well, it's uglier than usual." She quips, "You've got bruises on your face." I shrug,

"Ran into some trouble with some kids." She nods knowledgably,

"Socs?"

"Yep" she looks at me and then looks at the ceiling,

"Pony? Why is the grass green?" She asks me all sorts of questions, she likes that I try my best to answer.

"Well, all green plants have this thing in it called chloroplast, that's what makes it green."

"How does it work?"

"It absorbs the sunlight and the chloroplast emits a green color." I answer. She smiles and leans back into my shoulder as I scrub the dishes,

"What about the sky? Why's it blue?" I laugh and say,

"Light gives off color waves. The air in the sky absorbs the blue and rejects all the other colors, so we only see it as blue." She nods,

"How come it chooses blue?"

"I don't know," I admit, "maybe it just likes that color best." I shrug and she smiles at my honesty. She smiles and splashes me with the suds. I wipe it off my face and flick it at her face. She giggles and I smile at her. "Any more questions, shorty?" She chuckles,

"I'm not short. Why are you and Johnny so much littler than anybody else?" I consider it for a minute,

"Well, I'm younger, and Johnny…don't eat enough, I guess. He never ate his vegetables." I grin at her as she rolls her eyes.

"That's not true."

"Sure it is." Two-Bit's voice comes into the room and the two of us turn to see the gang grinning at us. Emily smiles at them and turns to me again.

"Pony?"

"Yeah?"

"Am I annoying you?"

"Nope"

"Ok, so how come vegetables make you grow?" I start off on an explanation of how vitamins and minerals work, the gang shakes their heads and leave one by one, 'til it's only me and Emily again. I dry off the last dish and put Emily on the floor. She looks at me with a shy smile,

"Pony?"

"Yeah?"

"How come you have to leave?" My smile falls and I say quietly,

"I don't know." She knows that she's made me sad, she reaches out and pulls my hand. I smile tightly and she scampers off. I walk into the living room and sit down on the floor, resting against Soda's legs. He ruffles my hair and says nothing, just continues to watch the movie. We watch TV until really late, getting a warning from Mrs. Matthews to tone it down because Emily is sleeping. We finally crash in the living room, Two-Bit going to his room, Soda taking the couch and the rest of us sleeping on the floor. I guess Steve, Johnny, Dally, and I are used to sleeping on the floor. I fall into a fitful sleep, which is unusual. I have these really bad nightmares that wake me up screaming murder most nights. I can't help it, even though it makes Mr. Lilc mad as heck. The dreams are even more terrifying than him. I never can remember them, though, for which I'm kind of thankful.


	6. Chapter 6

AN: Well, everybody was begging for more...and I didn't have the heart to deny you, so here it is. See you with an update tomorrow. Don't you love my updating times? Yay me.

Chapter 6

When we wake in the morning, we go out to play football again and then sneak into the movies. I remember that today is the last day before the pain will come, none of them have remembered that today's my birthday. It's alright though, I don't mind. I smile at Johnny as we converse quietly, talking in hushed tones.

"Ya'll are doing alright?" I ask him in concern. He nods,

"I'd be doing better if my best friend came around more often. My old man's grumpier these days too." He complains. I frown,

"I'm sorry, Johnny, I'll see how often I can sneak out."

"We don't want you hurt on our account." He tells me firmly. I shrug,

"Shoot, that don't matter none. You guys are worth it." Johnny lights up a cigarette and passes the carton to me. I haven't had a weed in months. I've kicked the habit. I pass it on to Dally, who gladly lights up as well. The carton gets passed down the line until it everyone but me and Soda have a weed in their mouth.

"You quit smoking Pony?" Soda asks me happily, he never did like that I was a weed fiend. I nod,

"Haven't had a weed in two and a half months." I sigh, "But boy was coming off of it hard." I grimace at the memory of nights spent shivering, desperately wanting a smoke to soothe the shaking and the cravings. I shake the memory out of my mind and remind them quietly,

"I have to get home soon." They all have different reactions. Steve looks almost relieved, Two-Bit and Dally seem unaffected, and Soda and Johnny look sad. Johnny says authoritatively,

"We'll drive you." It's not often Johnny tells anybody to do anything, in fact he don't ever boss around anybody, except me every now and then. None of the gang can tell him no. So Dally's gonna get Buck's T-bird, and Two-Bit's gonna drive. Half an hour later we're sitting in the car and I direct them to my neighborhood. I feel uncomfortable as they stare out the window at the nice houses.

We stop in front of the house, and by some miracle he's not home.

"Holy shit." Dally mutters, looking at the white painted ranch, the perfectly groomed lawn, the stables. I smile at their awe and ask in a joking voice,

"Hey Soda, you want to see the horses?" Soda's face lights up and the other guys, except Dally and Steve, look kind of excited too. We all exit the car and the three dogs come running up to greet me, I push them down. I pat the Springer spaniel on the head, "Down, Sadie." I say, and ease the beagle away from Dally, "Get over here, Trevor." I pat my leg and whistle Spike over, he's a German Sheppard. I smile apologetically at the gang and send the dogs after a stick. "Sorry, the dogs get a little…enthusiastic." I lead them into the barn, whistling at the mess, knowing it's gonna take me awhile to clean it up. I quickly open their stalls and lead the two out, one is a shiny brown stallion, the other a palomino. "C'mon," I click my tongue and run the horses into the corral, then I go back into the stables, motioning outside,

"You guys can go hang out with the horses, I got to clean up this mess." I pick a pitchfork up and they chuckle, Dally slaps my back,

"We gotta go, farm boy." They go into the car and Soda gives the horses a last, longing look before getting in. I do my chores and move the rocks as far across the yard as possible without being told to show him I'm here. Then I wait in my room.

I clench my fist as the door slams shut and I wait,

"Boy, you better get your ass out here." He screams dangerously. I walk out into the living room, he's pacing the floor in anger, "You're lucky if I don't kill you boy!" I swallow and know he's right, he would kill me without reservation. He immediately begins throwing me about the house roughly and beating me with everything that comes in arm's reach. When the steel vacuum piece continues to beat into my leg, there's a sudden snap and he grins as I gasp in pain. He drags me up, "Get your ass in the car, you worthless bag of shit." I limp into the car and he drives like a maniac to the hospital. When we get there he lifts me out of my seat and I whimper pitifully. He hushes me and takes me into the hospital. I moan and say as he checks me in,

"Daddy, it hurts." The lady looks at me in compassion as he multi-tasks, signing the forms and holding me at the same time,

"I know, son, just hold on a minute and Daddy will take care of everything." I rest against his shoulder, I see him smirk at the nurse and she leads us worriedly into the x-ray room. Mr. Lilc sets me on the table and a doctor puts a lead apron on me. They all exit the room because the rays can be harmful, but I don't mind. I'll probably die before my eighteenth birthday anyway. He'll kill me.

Mr. Lilc puts his hand on my back protectively as I get used to the crutches because of my cast. I wobble into the car. He starts the engine and sneers,

"If you think things are gonna be any different because you went and got your leg broke, you've got another thing coming." I never expected anything to be different, but I didn't say that. I looked out the window, seeing his fist come flying out of the corner of my eye. "Answer me when I talk to you, boy." I say quietly,

"Yes sir." I don't even reach to touch my cheek anymore. I just stare out the window. When we get home, I find out it's even harder to fight back with one leg in a cast. I end up naked on the kitchen floor again, conscious as he mounts me groaning in pleasure. I slip into a vacant state, this is my new way of living. I wait for it all to be over.


	7. Chapter 7

AN: Hey, ya'll. I've always wanted to say that. Anyway, here's the next chapter, as promised. Keep up that great reviews, please! Of course, if you want to flame...I can send an angry mob of story followers after you...

Chapter 7

I hobble down the hallway self-consciously, knowing that they're all looking at me. I'm the new kid, I'm the orphan, I'm the kid on crutches. All too many things draw attention my way. I don't like attention. I smile tentatively at the teacher and hand her my papers. She motions to a seat and I sit in it immediately. I have a habit of obeying orders, even unspoken ones, as quickly as possible. It's for self-preservation. She points to me and says,

"Class this is…there seems to be an error…"

"No," I sigh, "my name's Ponyboy." The class chuckles and snickers, comments at my expense are whispered. It's alright, I'm used to it. I sink into my seat and pray for invisibility. The teacher instructs the class to take out their books, we open them and start the day's lesson.

I pass through the day, moving between classes awkwardly. I hobble home, I live too close for a bus and he made it very clear he wasn't going to waste time with me. I walked there this morning as well. I get home and complete my chores before setting down to do my homework. He told me chores before homework and I have to be in bed by eight-thirty, which is really early if you ask me, but he didn't and I didn't dare tell him. He's there before I finish my homework. I pile my books into my backpack, he looks at me moodily. He leans against my door and watches me with vague distaste. I sigh and I don't know what comes over me, it's really been a bad day.

"What do you want?" At least this time I deserve it, I think, when I pick myself up from the kitchen floor.

"Did I tell you to get up?" He screams, so I sink back to the floor dejectedly, very aware that I'm without clothes. I lay on the floor and my stomach ices over as he leads men into the house. I'm dragged into the basement and the night begins in rips of pain.

After three months, I'm the official freak and klutz around school. My clothes aren't as good as the rest, I look like a greaser, I always have bruises and every so often I show up with a new cast. The hospitals have officially banned tree climbing of any kind for me. The gang is impatient because I haven't come since this summer. Soda finally realized that they forgot my birthday and he yelled at me for not reminding them. He doesn't understand, the people he lives with like him. Mr. Lilc only likes to torture me. I think this as I hiss in pain on the floor, popping my shoulder back into its socket. He's in his room, he never sticks around after a beating. He never helps me up, if I should faint, he leaves me where I drop. I get up and finish the dishes wearily, not caring when I go to bed instead of doing my homework. The school's been bugging him about letting me skip a grade and he's pissed, which isn't great for me. I decide that it's better to fail a couple classes then end up with my third broken arm. I've broken each arm once and my left leg. My shoulder's popped out too many times to count. Not to mention all the bruising in my ribs or broken noses. I lay down in bed and sleep fitfully while I can, the visits have become more frequent and erratic, coming randomly and often during the night. Tonight is no different, I spend most of it in the basement. There are regulars and one-time deals, guys who don't mind groups and guys that prefer one-on-one sessions. Either way, I know they're sick in the head.

I go through the routine on a daily basis, days blend and fade. I get up, I hurt, I go to school, I sit, I come home, I work, I hurt, I sleep, I hurt, repeat. This is my basic schedule. I look in the mirror, the boy I see is slight and frail, haunted. His skin is sallow and covered with splashes of color and patterns of lines. My skin stretches over the muscles in my arms and legs, my ribs stick out terribly. I view myself realistically and I know I look pathetic. It's a wonder nobody's become suspicious yet. I dry myself off from my shower and dress in my pajamas, staring at myself wearily. I look sort of jumpy, too. It's getting to me, the constant pain. I can't escape it. I tense whenever any adult comes close enough they could smack me. My obedience is immediate and perfect. I expect the pain, I accept the pain, I have gotten accustomed to the pain. I don't stop feeling it, and I doubt I ever will, but it has become like a scar, it hurts when it's fresh, annoys later, and eventually just becomes part of life. I climb into bed and hope in vain that tonight I'll sleep well. That hasn't happened since summer with Soda at my side. I have the dark circles surrounding my eyes constantly. I look like the waking dead.


	8. Chapter 8

AN: So, I couldn't make you guys suffer through wondering anymore, and this chapter was sitting on my computer...so I present it to you. Reviews rock!

Chapter 8

I have begun to fight back, though it doesn't do much good. Now that the weather's bad, I don't move rocks anymore. Instead I'm treated to my own personal boot camp. After chores he puts me through countless crunches, push ups, jumping jacks, runs up and down the stairs. There's also the new obedience tests.

"Get in the tub." I lower myself into the freezing water without a word, shivering miserably. He laughs and leaves me there. I shiver and shake and know my lips are turning blue, but I don't dare come out. I stay in the tub until it actually raises to room temperature water, which is still pretty cold. I know I'm going hypothermic and I get out, deciding to face whatever consequence I get. I walk out dripping wet and he turns in anger, ripping his belt off his waist fluidly. I back up in fear until I back into the wall. He grins at my terror and grabs me, drags me to the table, and puts his foot on the chair. I end up over his knee and tensely waiting for the feel of leather. Instead, pain tears through my body and I scream, the same pain continues and I continue on like a banshee. He tears into me with the belt buckle and I feel the blood pouring from my back and buttocks. He then drops me down and drags me back into the bathroom, herding me into the tub forcefully. The water starts being polluted with red. I watch it, concentrating on the deepening red color instead of the cold. I shiver and shake until I lose energy from it and fall into an exhausted sleep right there in the bathtub, not caring I may slip and drown in my sleep. When I get out, I make a cocoon out of the sheets on my bed and curl up, trying to bring warmth back in my body. I end up with a cold for a week anyway.

I lower myself to the floor and push myself up, then bring myself down again. I don't dare feel the pang in my arms as I lower for my fiftieth push-up. I struggle on, ignoring the blow to my ribs he delivers with his boot. I continue until I think I'll burst, then he orders me on my back for crunches. The exercises go on for hours. I sit in my room and pull out a pack of cigarettes, I stole some from the store. I need them to calm my nerves. I slowly pull the smoke into my lungs and exhale. I continue even as he comes toward my room. He tears of my shirt and holds me to the bed, burning out every single cigarette in the pack on my back.

I look at my report card for second quarter numbly, knowing my parents would have a fit if they were still alive to see it. But they aren't, so what they might've done don't matter. Every single grade is either a D- or an F. I never realized the amount of work it takes to fail classes. It's a lot of work trying to not work. I put it on the table and drop my bag in my room, starting in on my chores. "Don't know why your school ever thought you were smart. You're the stupidest retard I've ever met!" He roars. I continue on unaffected.

"Are you listening to me? Answer me when I talk to you!"  
"Yes sir" I respond meekly, but it doesn't save me from a tanning. I try to run as the belt flies at me, but it strikes anyway, we move throughout the house, him smashing things into my body as I desperately try to escape. His hands circle my neck and pull me off the floor, my legs flailing. I gasp for breath to no avail, the room starts to spin and the world goes black.

I sigh as the teacher frowns at my new cast, this time on my left arm. I take out my books and get ready for the day. Some lady I've never met comes in and calls my name. I get up and look at her expectantly from a safe distance. She starts walking and I follow silently. She leads me into a small office and sits behind the desk, motioning to the seats in front of it. I sit in one immediately and look at her anxiously.

"Ponyboy, several of the staff have noticed that you seem very…accident prone, and frankly we're concerned. You also seem malnourished. I need you to tell me if anything's going on." I say immediately,

"I just trip a lot, I don't have much of an appetite, I guess, since my parents…" she looks at me in concern.

"You know where to find me if you need to talk. Everything you say will be confidential as long as it doesn't risk your safety." I nod and exit the room, cursing the school counselor for being so nosy. I can take care of myself, thank you very much. I know it's not true, but I like to pretend. I slide into my seat and start doodling, it's much easier to fail if you're not paying attention.


	9. Chapter 9

AN: Here you go, guys. Next chapter may be up tonight, but probably tomorrow. We'll see how things go. Oh, the possibilities...

Chapter 9

I rub the skin on my arm, it always feels funny after having the weight of the cast off. I walk into the car quietly and he starts the car without a word. "Mouth off to me again." He challenges. I don't answer, I just stare out the window. He takes one hand off the wheel and slams my head into the dashboard repeatedly, "I swear, one of these days I'm just gonna kill you, you pain-in-the-ass." Without another word, he guns the gas and swerves into a tree. The last thing I think is 'He's really going to kill us'. Then the only sound is crunching of metal and the sound of shattering glass. Then it all fades into darkness…

Soda's POV

"Steve, get the door!" Two-Bit calls as a the pounding starts.

"Johnny get the door!" Steve calls. Johnny mutters something and walks over to the door, all three feet. He opens the door and stutters,

"D-Darry, what's wrong?" I jump up and stalk over to the door. Sure enough, my big brother is standing there, looking about to fall to pieces. Like I care.

"What do you want?"

"Come with me." He demands. I stand up to my full height, which at fourteen isn't all that much, and cross my arms defiantly,

"I ain't going nowhere with you." I declare. He looks annoyed at me,

"Soda, we're going to see Pony. He's in the hospital. Get. In. The. Car." He hisses. Within half a second the whole gang's in the car.

"We're here to see Ponyboy Curtis." Darry states authoritatively as we run into the ER. The receptionist looks up at us and says in an equally demanding voice,

"A doctor will see you in a moment. Have a seat." Darry grits his teeth in annoyance and I pace. How can they expect us to sit around and wait when Ponyboy is in the hospital and we have no idea what's wrong with him? Finally, a man in a white coat with thinning hair and a stern look on his face waves his clipboard at us,

"Are you here for Ponyboy Curtis?" He asks as we walk over. Darry answers,

"Yes, how is he? Is he alright?" The doctor says softly,

"I think we best talk in my office." He has only the intention of talking with Darry. Darry. The reason we have no idea what's going on. I don't think so.

"We're all coming." Steve declares meanly, saving me from saying it. The doctor sighs and leads us into a small room with a metal desk and two chairs, not enough for us. We lean against the wall, except for Darry and Dally, who take the chairs without question. The doctor leans back in his chair and looks at us all for a moment before starting in.

"There was a car accident, Pony's father's truck went a hundred miles an hour into a tree. Ponyboy is still unconscious, suffering from internal bleeding, bruising, lacerations, and several fractures in his ribs and two in his right leg. There's a possibility of a concussion, but we won't know for sure until he wakes up. He's having blood transfusions and pain killers and food for malnutrition pumped into his system and he's got oxygen to help him breath. He's also hooked up to a heart monitor so we can make sure he's alright. His father has a broken arm and is currently sitting in jail."

"Why?" Two-Bit asks, making me thankful I didn't have to ask. The doctor says regretfully,

"I had hoped maybe you'd understand…it wasn't really an accident. Mr. Lilc had every intention of driving into that tree. He had every intention of killing Ponyboy." The room is silent, anger pulsing through it. "I suppose I should warn you, in case you do see him when the bandages come off. I already said he's malnourished, he'll need to gain about fifty pounds to be healthy again. He's covered in bruises, cuts, burns, and scars that occurred before the accident."

"We want to see him." Dally's hard voice is even harder than usual, I never thought that was possible. "We want to see him now." The doctor nods thoughtfully and leads us down the corridor into the pediatric unit. The room has one bed, on which a small figure lays perfectly still, the only sound the constant beeping of a heart monitor.

"Ponyboy, your brothers are here." He turns to us and says, "I don't know if he can hear you, but it can't hurt." Then he leaves the room. I walk up to the motionless form, his eyes open slowly and he smiles.

"Pony! Baby, are you alright?" The minute I say it, I know it's a stupid question. I sit down and he slides his head onto my lap contentedly. I stroke his hair and Johnny says quietly,

"They still think you're unconscious." Pony nods quietly,

"I know." He doesn't say much, but he's staring at Darry. I don't see any hate in his eyes, just this look like he can't believe Darry's standing there.

"He get you pretty good, kid?" Steve asks blatantly, never having been good at finesse. Dally smacks him upside the head as Pony wordlessly moves closer to me.

"Is he here?" His eyes are wide in terror. I stroke his hair quietly again,

"No, honey, he's in jail. He can't hurt you no more." Pony whimpers and mutters to himself more than anybody else,

"He's gonna get me now." Darry growls protectively,

"I'll kill him if he tries." Ponyboy doesn't look impressed,

"He's bigger than you." He whimpers as Dallas punches the wall wildly.

"Why's it always us? Always them?" He demands uselessly, nobody knows the answer. A nurse comes in and she smiles,

"I see you've miraculously awaken." She says slyly, and he smiles. "Alright, I let them all think you were unconscious, now let me check you over and make sure you don't have a concussion." He nods, burrowing even closer to me. I hold him, showing him I'm never going to let him go again. She sits in a chair,

"What is your name?"

"Ponyboy Michael Curtis, ma'am." He answers softly.

"Ok, do you know what day it is?"

"When we crashed it was the seventh day of February. How many days have passed?"

"It's the next day." She tells him kindly. "Now, honey, I've got to fix up your bandages." Ponyboy looks down in shame and turns over with difficulty, having to maneuver a cast on his right leg. The nurse reaches down to pull off the blanket and Pony flinches, expecting to be hit. "Easy, sweetheart, it's alright…" she soothes him as she pulls away the blankets and unties the strings of his hospital gown. All he's got on under it is a pair of underpants. Bruises flower and splash across his body, barely leaving a patch of unharmed skin. Angry red welts slash through his back, the scars and cuts sketch a grid into his skin. Triangular burn marks and boils rise up occasionally, handprints sprawl across his neck, looking like somebody had tried to choke him. His ribs protrude horribly, his stomach sinks in violently. I stagger against the wall and turn my face away. I feel like I'm going to throw up. I can't take it. I run out of the room.

I lean against the wall and slide down, not caring that people are staring at the greaser sobbing in the hallway. Screw them. A hand is on my shoulder and I look up to see Steve standing there, looking at me in concern. He holds out his hand and I let him drag me into a standing position.

"Are you alright, Soda?" I choke back another sob,

"D-did y-y-you see him? Did y-you see what that ma-monster did to my baby brother?" Steve nods and squeezes my shoulder gently,

"Yeah, buddy, I saw. He didn't deserve that. Nobody deserves that."

"I'll kill him, Steve. I swear, if I ever see him…"

"There's not time for that right now, Soda. You scared Pony. He thinks you're mad at him." I feel my stomach sink. Some brother I am. This is all my fault. If I had taken care of him, like I promised I would, he would still be safe. It's all my fault.

AN: There you go. Pony has been 'saved' and the gang knows. I bet that was a different rescue than expected. Continue with the lurvely reviews!


	10. Chapter 10

AN: Hm, maybe i'm spoiling you guys with my quick updates. Maybe it's unfair, because now you're going to want other authors to update this quickly. Maybe i don't care.

Chapter 10 (Back to Pony's POV)

I watch in horror as Soda runs out of the room. Then I berate myself for thinking anything different would happen. I've seen what I look like. I'm a monster. I look at them expectantly, waiting for them to leave me in disgust and comfort poor Soda, broken by the image of his deformed freak brother.

"I'm sorry" I whisper in shame. Steve leaves to go after Soda. Darry comes up to me slowly, as if I may bite. I flinch when his hand comes to my face, but he just holds my face tenderly.

"Don't apologize, you didn't do anything wrong. He just…doesn't like seeing you hurt." I snap my head fearfully as the door opens, but it's only Soda and Steve coming back.

"I'm sorry I ran out, Pony." He tells me softly as he sits by my bed.

"It's ok, I know how I look." Soda strokes my hair and we sit in silence, nobody's sure exactly what to say. I let Soda turn his head as the door opens again, a doctor walking in. He has thinning gray hair and a paternal look of worry etched into him.

"Hello…Ponyboy, I'm Dr. Woodsworth, I've come to talk to you for a bit. The police just turned in the results from the interrogation and polygraph test with Mr. Lilc."

"He's mad at me, isn't he?" I ask fearfully. Dr. Woodsworth smiles comfortingly,

"You're safe right now, I promise you that. Now, I'm not going to make you recount any of it, but I'll read off the charges and you'll just nod if it's correct and add on if you feel the need later, alright?" I nod and he begins, "Charges of child abuse and torture in the forms of sleep and food deprivation." I nod my head. "Charges of verbal abuse." I nod again. "Charges of sexual assault and rape." I confirm, not daring to look at their faces. "Charges of child prostitution and allowing others to abuse charge for profit." I glue my eyes to the bed sheet as I once again confirm the charge. "Charges for attempted murder and repeated threatening to endanger the life of a minor." I nod and the file closes, the doctor examining my face cautiously,

"Is there anything you'd like to add?" Isn't that enough? I shake my head and the doctor stands to leave, saying comfortingly, "With any luck, you'll be out of here within the week." I fake a smile and he leaves, closing the door behind him. I keep my head down, not wanting to see their mortified faces as they storm out of the room, realizing I'm dirty and I don't deserve any of their love. When I don't hear the door close, I look up curiously. Soda's crying, some of the others look close to it. Except Dally, he never cries, no matter what. I revert my gaze down and Soda continues holding me as if it would hurt him just as much as it would hurt me to let go.

"Hush, Pony-baby, I've got you. Relax honey." I didn't realize how shook up that small discussion made me until he starts trying to calm me down.

It's early in the morning, so I can't send them home yet. I want them here, but by the looks on their faces I know they're uncomfortable. I don't want them feeling guilty about me. "When did it start, Ponyboy? When did he start hitting you?" Soda asks, and I know he wants me to tell him that it was after I saw him that time in the summer. I'm usually a good liar, but Soda's different, I can't lie to him.

"On the ride to the house he punched me." I admit, lowering my eyes before them. They would've done it different. They would've been smarter, stronger. They wouldn't have let it happen. They definitely wouldn't have gone to the point where they were sniveling cowards, obeying the every word of their masters. If he had told me to stop breathing, I would've died. I don't deserve their pity. I want to tell them this, but maybe they know how low I am already.

"Why didn't you tell us? Why didn't you tell me?" Soda pleads, sounding heartbroken. I've made him sad, that's the last thing I ever wanted to do. Taking away Soda's smile should count as a criminal offense. I hang my head and whisper,

"I'm sorry, Soda. I thought…he said…I don't know!" I end in frustration, not knowing how to say it. Johnny knows what I mean and he repeats word I whispered to him throughout our childhood.

"You didn't deserve it and you're not weak for taking it." I look at him as he smiles wryly.

"Throw my words back in my face, huh? I see how it is." I snarl jokingly. He laughs,

"Do you believe me?" I think about it for a moment,

"I want to." Darry says in an authoritative voice, almost demanding me to believe him,

"None of what happened is your fault. Honey, I promise I'm not going to let anybody hurt you ever again."

"How are you going to do that?" Soda angrily bites back.

"Don't…don't fight…" I beg them, today has been going so nicely. They're quiet for a minute, then Darry says quietly,

"I'm going to get custody of you two. I'll take care of you."

"Darry…what about college, and…" I trail off in horror, then say, "and Soda's family's alright. I'll just…"

"You'll just what, kid?" Dally demands suddenly, "You'll just be a martyr and suffer alone? What do you think they're gonna do to you once you get out of this hospital? Huh? Let some magical dream family adopt you? That ain't how life works!" I almost glare at him, but I say in a hard voice.

"Nobody's going to adopt me. I'm damaged goods. They're gonna put me in some asylum 'til I turn eighteen." Soda looks at Darry,

"Do whatever you need to do, if you do actually plan on doing something, because I'm a minute from going home and telling my adoptive parents they're getting another child." Darry nods slightly and leaves the room,

"I'm going to take care of you two."

"Mr. Lilc's trial is in two weeks. They want me to testify." I shudder slightly at the thought of having to be in the same room as that man. Soda rubs my back comfortingly, forgetting about the bruising and cuts. I tense but I don't say a word. Habit. He withdraws his hand quickly,

"Sorry." He sounds embarrassed.

"That's alright. You didn't mean to." I tell him honestly. I turn to Johnny, who looks at my back angrily.

"You're just a kid. What did you ever do to anybody?" He demands. I smile lazily and say in an off-hand voice,

"Whatever you did, apparently."

"Shoot, the only sin you two ever committed was being born on the wrong side of town and having the wrong kind of luck." Two-Bit announces seriously, which is a rare occurrence indeed. I lay back tiredly and Soda whispers in my ear,

"It's alright, honey, go to sleep…" I happily comply.

AN: So, there you go. I think maybe the next chapter will be this same scene from all the gang's POV, so we can learn how they feel? What do you think? Should i just continue on with the story instead? Won't update until i get a consensus.


	11. Chapter 11

AN: Lovely reviews, you can have your chapter now. I decided to meet all half way. Please tell me what you think about the other's point of views. I'm not sure if i captured them right. Thank you.

Chapter 11

Darry's POV

The words bounce around in my head, repeating and taunting and refusing to be silenced. _Child abuse…torture…rape…prostitution and allowing others to harm charge for profit…attempted murder and threatening to endanger the life of a minor._ Again and again, on top of each other and blending together the words shout in my head. My baby brother, my poor, innocent, angel; he probably didn't even understand what happened to him. Maybe he still doesn't. He's not old enough yet for the "talk". Did the man ever tell him anything that wasn't an order, curse, or threat? Was there a moment my little brother did not shake helplessly in fear? I'm sorry, Mom and Dad, I only wanted you to be proud of me. I only wanted to do what you always dreamed I would. I messed up. I was supposed to take care of them. Then my Ponyboy wouldn't be like he is now, trembling from having to speak to an adult, even a couple words, tensing whenever anybody comes close enough to reach him. This is all my fault. I have to make this right. I have to fix it, because I'm his big brother and that's what I do. I'm superman.

Steve's POV

I can't believe somebody would do those kinds of things to a little kid. I mean, sure, he's annoying and a bit bratty and sometimes I want to slug him across the face, but I never wanted anything like this to happen to the kid. He was Soda's brother, after all, and even though it hurts to admit it, Soda'd die without him. Not only that, but the kid's different from most greasers. He's quiet and brainy, he digs stuff like colors and clouds and sunsets and reading. He's a wise-ass sometimes and he gets too mouthy, what with that brain of his thinking of comebacks, but he's never really done anything mean to anybody in his life. His adoptive father beat him up worse in the last ten months than Johnny's dad, who's about as hateful as you can get, did within the ten years we've known him. Johnny never once looked this bad. Why's it always the weak ones, the ones that can't stick up for themselves, that get whipped? Maybe it's for that reason; they can't stick up for themselves. But Pony and Johnny aren't like the rest, while the rest of us would've gotten bitter, it just made them jumpy and scared and somehow more endearing. I don't like the kid, but I never wanted this for him.

Dally's POV

The gang's about to cry, I can see it in their eyes. I won't, though, I've forgotten how. I'm tough, I'm cold, I don't feel, and I like it that way. But those two kids, I give a damn if they live or die, and to somebody like me, that's scary. Getting attached to anybody is dangerous, that much I've figured out from living my life. There's something about Johnny and Pony that makes you want to build them an impenetrable fortress and lock them away, so they never have to face the world again. Of course, we can't do that, but we sure can try to surround them, protect them. Pony's the gang's little brother and Johnny's our pet, we'd all jump off a cliff if we thought it would help. The problem with this situation is that nobody's sure exactly what would help. We're helpless. Dallas Winston does not do 'helpless' by any stretch of the imagination. My only solution is to make sure this creep dies a horrible, painful, undignified death, like he made Pony's life. That's all I want, and I know it will happen. Because I get what I want, no exceptions. That's just the way it is.

Johnny's POV

Not Ponyboy, anybody but Pony. He's too young. He has too much potential. He can't protect himself from what the doctor says he lived through. He'll die from all that pain. But he's sitting right in front of me. He's dying on the inside, like me. The rest of the gang thinks we're weak because we're even tempered and quiet and don't like to cause waves, but we're not. They would've gone sour and become angry at the world and ended up dead or in jail or on drugs or something. We suffer in silence and wear the haunted expression, the one that lets the world know what we are. They wouldn't have the self-control to take what we did and still do. Pony and I, we're stronger than they think. But we still need them, to remind us that there's somebody on this planet who would care if we dropped dead tomorrow. Somebody who fusses over our bruises instead of looking upon them with pride for putting them there. People who comfort us instead of cuss us out. I'm going to help Pony, even though there are some things that have happened to him that I have not experienced and hope to never have to, I know more than the others. I think this as his body shakes, recognizing it as the pure terror brought about by unfamiliar human interaction. He's a tortured animal now, accustomed to living by pure instinct. We have to get the old Ponyboy back. We have to make him better. I suddenly feel a swell of anger rise up at Darry. If he had done the right thing in the first place, my best friend wouldn't be in this situation. It's going to take a long time and a lot of good deeds to cancel this out. I won't be able to forgive him for what's happened to Ponyboy for a while. I'll never forgive the man who did this, not until the day I die.

Two-Bit's POV

My usual mask of happiness can't hold up much longer. How much more can he take? That little kid has already had his entire family ripped away from him, and that monster had to go make it worse by making him live in fear every day of his life. Hurting him, humiliating him, degrading him into nothing. He's the gang's future, the one among us with a chance besides Darry, who's giving his up now. I know they think I have no sense of responsibility, but I can tell you this much. I don't think I could ever stand by and watch my little sister be taken away to live with strangers. I don't know how Darry did it, how he got so cold. I was mad for a while, still am to tell the truth. He's a greaser; he should know that family comes before everything. After all, we're not like Socs; we don't run out on each other when a better opportunity rises. If he hadn't acted like scum, none of this would've happened. I hope he feels guilty. Even more, I hope this Mr. Lilc guy rots in jail and then burns in hell for eternity. I hope every minute of every waking day and restless night is pure agony for him until the end of time. Only then will my anger simmer.

Soda's POV

My baby brother has been hurt so bad. I feel shame for myself and anger for Darry. We're his big brothers; it's our job to protect him. We're supposed to take care of him and never let anything bad happen to him. I promised him. I promised our parents, the day he was born.

_Mom places a very small bundle in my arms, fitting my arms around it carefully._

"_He little." I observe, causing a six-year-old Darry to agree,_

"_Littler than Soda, even." Mom whispers as she gathers the two of us in her arms,_

"_Darry, Soda, this is your baby brother Ponyboy. He's much littler than the two of you, so you're going to have to watch out for him and take care of him. Can you two do that for me?"_

"_I promise." I say solemnly, swearing in my three-year-old innocence that I would never let anything touch him. Darry looks at the baby reverently,_

"_I take care of Soda and Pony. Both are my baby brothers. Protect them from everything." I smile; knowing somebody's looking out for me too, and Darry hugs me like little kids can, careful not to squish the baby. _

"_Good boys" my father says with paternal compassion, "now, give Ponyboy to your mother, Pepsi-Cola." I hand him back and Mom takes him in her arms, saying as he begins to cry,_

"Sh, Pony-baby, Momma's got you." I immediately begin to stroke his hair, humming distractedly. The crying ceases and I decide then and there that Ponyboy is my baby.

I didn't follow through with my promise, but I'm going to try harder. I'm never going to let anything happen to him again. I don't think he could stand it.

Pony's POV

The gang leaves around noon to have lunch at the cafeteria while the nurse comes in and redoes my bandages. They don't want to look at it again. I get more food through a tube and eat lunch by myself. I don't really mind, at least I get to eat. I look around the white room and smirk. It reminds me of my room at the boys' home. I turn my head as the door opens, revealing a man in a suit. He reminds me of a snake, looking cunning and sneaky and downright mean. I start trembling immediately. He pulls a chair up to my bed and begins to talk in a low voice.

"Hello, Ponyboy, I'm Mr. Lilc's attorney. My client wishes to deliver a message. He wants you to know he will win this case and get you back. They will see you as a lying little brat starved for attention that got whipped occasionally and fully deserved it. They'll give you back to him. Mr. Lilc will show you that you've never felt pain before. If he loses, he'll only go to jail for a couple of years. Nobody cares about an unwanted orphan. When he gets out, he'll kill you." I shake uncontrollably by now, and as if on cue I hear the voices of the gang coming rowdily down the hallway. The man says in a normal speaking voice, "My client wishes to make a deal with you, son. If you withdraw these…ridiculous false accusations, he is willing to take you under his care and not let the state put you in a state institution. You have three days to come to a decision.

"Get out!" The entire gang yells at once, except Johnny and Steve. Johnny doesn't yell and Steve doesn't care. I try to control the tremors of my body, but it's pointless. Soda soothes me gently,

"We're not going to let that man take you back, honey. We promise you that." I finally manage to stop and whisper in embarrassment,

"I'm sorry for causing so much trouble."

"Stop apologizing, honey. It's not your fault. Don't worry, everything's going to be alright." Darry steps forward now,

"Ponyboy, I know you don't trust me, and I know nobody else does either. I abandoned you and I shouldn't have. But I promise you, I will never let anything happen to you or hurt you. I swear you're safe now; I'm going to be there. Me and Sodapop, we'll protect you." Soda nods. I look at the wall as I say in a low voice.

"Mr. Lilc is suing for custody. His lawyer says that they're going to make me look like a liar. 'A lying little brat starving for attention who gets whipped occasionally and fully deserves it.' Was what the attorney called me. He's going to try and take me back." Fists clench throughout the room, looking murderous.

"Nobody will believe that Pony, don't worry. They'll see you, they'll see the evidence, and they'll have no choice but to send him to jail."

"He'll only get a couple years. Then he'll be out again." I tell them matter-of-factly, "Then he'll find me." Darry grabs my arms roughly, because he's always rough without meaning to be, and says in a determined voice,

"You listen to me. We are not going to let anything happen to you. What will it take for you to believe that you won't have to hurt anymore?" His voice sounds desperate. He wants to fix it and he has no idea how. I duck my head and mutter,

"I don't know…" Johnny sits at the edge of the bed and looks at me for a moment. I direct my statement at him, hoping he'd understand, "You just get so used to it. Has he ever gone a couple days without beating on you?" Johnny nods in confusion. "Don't you find yourself wishing he'd just turn around and belt you, because then at least you'd know what to do? Like, until he smacks you again, you're walking on eggshells trying not to be beat, but you know it's going to happen anyway because it never fails you do something wrong, and it's stressful because it's like the deep breath before the plunge, only you've got to wait awhile holding your breath?" Johnny looks thoughtful for a minute, and then he nods,

"Yeah, sometimes it's like that." He agrees. I nod, thankful he understands.

"Maybe, after awhile, I'll be able to get used to…not being in pain…" my brothers nod, accepting this as the only answer they're going to get for the time being. They shift me gently so that Soda's once again got my head in his lap and Darry's sitting on the edge, stroking me gently. The gang leaves quietly, sensing that this is time for us to be alone as brothers. I feel their presence with relish; their arms around me relax me. I know that I'm protected and safe. I say nothing and allow them to baby me in this fashion. I have not been aware of affection for too long. It feels nice.


	12. Chapter 12

AN: Hey, guys, I read your reviews and I tried to clean up a bit about the lawyer. You guys were right, it wasn't that realistic. Does this detail help? Anyway, sorry for getting this up so late. It's Easter, after all. Plus, I had to work. Busy, busy busy...

PS: Special thanks to Laughing for first constructive criticism.

Chapter 12

Within the next few days, nothing much changed. I stayed at the hospital and the gang came and went. The only interesting thing is that we found out something about Mr. Lilc's attorney. Turns out he's the guy's brother or something. Isn't that nice. I realized that in this case maybe the apple doesn't fall far from the psychotic tree and their whole family is a bunch of whackos. It's a theory, anyway. The gang tried to tell somebody what was said, but we had no proof and of course the law was going to side with the upstanding citizen lawyer over some stupid greaser JDs. That's just how the hand is laid. I'm waiting for Darry to come in and get me. He managed to talk the state into extending the trial date, giving us one month before the trial, which will be completely monitored by an official and a suggestion will be made as to whether or not Soda and I can stay with Darry. The door opens and the gang comes in, all of them. I grab my crutches easily and hop up without thought, I've already done the broken leg thing.

"Let's blow this place." I mutter. They roll their eyes and laugh. There's a man standing at the truck. Darry greets him with a firm handshake,

"Hello, I'm Darrel Curtis, you can call me Darry." He looks the man in the eye, a show of equality. I couldn't do that if I tried. Darry motions to Soda and introduces Soda. When he motions to me I lower my gaze instinctively. Various scenes of another hand motioning at me saying "this is the boy" flash in my head. I shake Soda off as he tries to help me into the cab of the truck. I can do it myself. I scoot as far over as possible and we pile in as many as possible. Dally and Two-Bit end up riding in the back of the pickup (that was still legal in the 60s, I think). We ride home and the official, who has yet to tell us his name, looks around the neighborhood with vague distaste. We drop off the members of the gang at their particular houses before driving up to our old house.

"I thought you sold it." Soda says in a low voice. Darry answers,

"I was going to, but I couldn't. There're too many memories here." So he does care. I allow Soda to help me out and Darry leads us into the house. He looks at me and demands, "Ponyboy, go lay down, I've already set your room up. You aren't supposed to move around too much." I nod silently and limp into my old room, taking in the sight of familiarity. Everything is just how it was before I moved, if I had ever bothered to clean up my room. I hear Darry ask Soda,

"Hey, Soda, would you mind bunking with Pony? Mr.…"

"Harrison" the male official supplies.

"Mr. Harrison needs someplace to sleep." Nobody's going to use our parents' bedroom, it would be too painful. I haven't actually thought about our parents in a while. I think this as I lay down and feel guilty immediately. Even if I was a bit distracted, to forget about them almost completely seems so wrong. I curl up in bed near the wall. This is my habitual sleeping stance. I stay as small as possible and as far away from any intruders as possible. I guess old habits die hard.

"Sure, Darry. I wanted to stay with him for a bit anyway. I don't…I don't wanna leave him alone…" Soda trails off and I hear Darry respond in a low voice,

"I know, Pepsi-Cola, I know." Soda comes into the room and sits on the edge of the bed, moving wisps of hair out of my eyes.

"Darry's gonna get you enrolled in school this week." My stomach sinks. I curl into a tighter ball.

"Soda, if I tell you something, will you promise not to get mad?" Soda's arm tenses on my head,

"Should Darry know whatever this is too?" I nod tightly, willing myself not to stutter as Darry and the official walk in to answer Soda's beckoning.

"What's wrong?" Darry asks in concern.

"Pony has something to tell us." Soda replies, his voice palpably controlled. Darry looks at me imploringly.

"Promise you won't get mad?" I ask once again.

"We promise honey." Darry whispers, sitting on the edge of the bed next to Soda.

"I…I'm failing…I'm failing everything…" Soda's face drops in shock and an angry vein throbs in Darry's forehead. I feel tears start to fall from my face. "You're mad at me…I knew you would be. I'm sorry…I didn't want to…but he was so mad at me, 'cause the school was bugging him to move me up a grade. I…I thought that if I didn't do so well, he'd stop being so mad. I just…the stupid grades weren't worth the pain they caused…" I'm sobbing by this point trying to explain myself. Soda's arms find their way around me first and he hugs me comfortingly.

"Hush, Pony-baby, it's ok. We're not mad at you. You'll do better, right? Now that nobody's going to hurt you?" I nod,

"I promise…" Darry looks at me and I am surprised to see a measure of pride in them as he asks with a smile on his face,

"They wanted to move you up a grade?" I nod and his smile widens. His hand ruffles my hair and he says, "You brainy son of a gun." I smirk in joy. Mr. Harrison is writing on his pad. Let him write, there's nothing bad he can say about this. "I'll see if they'll let you take some kind of test." Darry informs me,

"But right now I can see you're tired, young man. You should be resting." My brothers turn to leave until I ask quietly, embarrassed even as I say it,

"Could…could you stay with me…just until I fall asleep?" Both of their eyes soften in compassion. I lay in between the two of them, they both hold me and wait for me to fall asleep. Truthfully, the pain medication they give me makes me real tired.

"Darry?"  
"Yeah, honey?"

"Do I have to take the pain killers? They make me so tired…"

"It'll hurt you to be without them." He warns protectively. I smirk a bit at the irony.

"I'm alright with that."

"Are you sure?"  
"Yeah, they make me feel funny…"

"Alright, baby, I won't make you take them if you don't want to. But if I think you're hurting too much, you go right back on them, understand?"  
"Yeah" I answer, drifting slowly into sleep.

"Good night, Pony." I fall blissful sleep, finally losing the battle as the dark tiredness consumes me.


	13. Chapter 13

AN: Alright, I'm answering the questions about their ages. Instead of the car crash happening seven months before Ponyboy turns fourteen, it happens right after Darry graduates at eighteen, so Pony's twelve at the beginning and is now thirteen.

Chapter 13

Somebody's shaking me, calling my name frantically. I struggle to pull myself out of the darkness and wake up with a gasped breath. Sweat is pouring down my face and my breathing is ragged. I clutch the bed sheets in a death grip, panting until my breathing goes back to normal. Soda holds me in his arms and Darry's standing at my bedside with a glass of chocolate milk. I chug it down gratefully and think about the difference between my usual awakenings. Usually Mr. Lilc would chain me up outside for a couple of nights after a nightmare. Yet here my brothers are trying to calm down.

"Sorry" I say finally as Mr. Harrison walks in sleepily, looking rather annoyed at the sudden awakening. Darry sits on the edge of the bed as Soda asks quietly,

"What happened honey? Did you have a bad dream?" It sounds so childish when he asks, but I nod anyway. "What happened?"

"I can't remember. I can never remember…"

"Do you have these dreams a lot?" I nod again,

"Y-yeah, since…" I can't make my mouth form the words 'since Mom and Dad died', so I say instead, "since the first night at the boys' home." Soda gently brushes hair out of my face and says quietly,

"It's ok, honey. I'll stay with you, you don't have to be afraid."

"I'm not afraid." I respond indignantly. Soda complies easily,

"Alright then, I'll stay here and you go to sleep."

"Sorry for waking you."

"Not a problem, little buddy." Darry cajoles. I blink at him in surprise. Little buddy is about as close as Darry comes to terms of affection. He's never called me that before, just Soda. Mr. Harrison mutters something I can't make out, but he gets a glare from Darry. "Go back to sleep, we've all got to get up and do some things in a couple hours." My cheeks burn for causing an inconvenience, but I nod off to sleep as Soda's arm is slung over my shoulders carelessly.

"What are we doing today?" Soda asks as he runs around, his plate of eggs and toast balanced precariously in his hand. He's trying to find his shoe. I finally get up and fish around under the couch, shoving the missing item at him with a smirk,

"Sit down for five seconds, will you?" He grins and rubs my head affectionately. I slap at his hand in annoyance, I'm not a little kid anymore, and sit back in my seat. I push the food around on my plate, wanting to eat it but knowing I shouldn't. If I eat too much after a long time of not having anything, I'll be sick all day. That's one of the lessons I've learned. I pick at the food and cover the plate with wrap, sticking it back in the fridge. Soda frowns,

"You gotta eat more than that, Ponyboy." He begs. I slip my shoes on and respond calmly,

"If you eat too much after not eating all that much for awhile, all you do is puke all day."

"Really?"

"Yeah" Darry answers, and then turns to me, "How'd you know that?" I raise my eyebrow and recite solemnly,

"Torture in the form of food deprivation, remember? Starve me for a week or two then make me eat a three-course meal. I'd be puking my guts out for days." Anger throbs in their eyes, but Darry motions to the truck. I prop myself up on the crutches and work my way out of the house. Darry and Mr. Harrison ride shotgun and Soda and I sit in the back. I recognize the district and my stomach sinks as we pull up to my school. What are we doing here?

"Darry, what're we doing here?"

"We've got to get your records, and see about taking some sort of test." He answers easily. I get out of the truck and notice that the kids around me look at my new cast with vague interest. I shoot them glares and they duck their heads. I forget that I'm not alone as I barrel down the hallway; none of the kids are stupid enough to get in my way.

"What's with that kid?" I hear Soda's voice ask. At least he's being subtle. The kid, a guy by his voice, responds,

"I don't really know. He's new around here, an orphan or something. At first we all thought he was a bit of a freak. Kids would follow him home; harass him and stuff, harmless fun. Then these eight kids tried to jump him, when he was done with them…they decided it's not so much fun. We all just try to leave him alone."

"Doesn't he have any friends at all?"

"None, he's…a loner. By the looks of it, he's a bit of a klutz as well. That's the third time he's broken his leg." I wait in the office for them; they both give me the 'we'll talk later' look. Darry talks politely to the receptionist and they send me into a room to take some test and to write an essay and a list of books that I've read. The last part takes the longest. I think my brothers and Mr. Harrison went out to lunch during the three and a half hours I was in there, I hope they did at least. I make my way back out to the office and hand off the materials. She smiles at me softly and we leave the school. I smirk to myself wryly as kids go out of their way to make room for me. The car door closes and Darry asks with a hard voice,

"Those boys, the ones that tried to jump you, what did you do to them?"

"It was a fair fight Darry." I plead, "There was eight of them, after all. I did break one kid's nose and I cracked a couple ribs…but besides that, it was just some painful bruising. It's not like they didn't get hits of their own in. Besides, a couple of them had older brothers who had a…discussion…with me the next day…" His temple throbs angrily and I sink into the seat in shame.

"Fighting isn't the answer, Ponyboy." He says sternly, and I nod. Soda drags my head to his chest and I curl up there until we stop at the next place. Darry's going for interviews. We wait in the car and Mr. Harrison tries to make some small talk.

"So, Ponyboy, how are you feeling today?"

"I'm alright." I answer, the small tingling sensation of pain is endurable and definitely not the worst pain I've ever felt.

"Just alright, Ponyboy? You need some-"

"I'm not taking anything, Sodapop. I don't need it. I've been worse without some stupid drugs that go to your head and leave you unable to count to five." I snap, feeling stupid suddenly after. I lower my head and say quietly, "I-I'm sorry…I don't know why I said that…you was just trying to help…" Soda forces a smile and says in a careless voice,

"Oh, honey, that's alright." I wish they'd stop calling me honey and baby and stuff, I ain't five. I guess they're trying to make me feel loved again or something. I guess that isn't so bad, but maybe they could stop doing that in front of other people. It's embarrassing.

When we return home, Darry cooks. Thankfully he cooks a lot, because the whole gang suddenly appears around dinner. Steve, Dally, Two-Bit, and Soda sit around a small table playing poker for cookies and cigarettes, since the state guy is here. Johnny and I sit on the couch watching them and talking softly. Johnny smiles,

"If you could pick one day to relive over, which one would it be?" We always ask each other theoretical questions. I lean back and say carefully,

"I think…Soda's last birthday." He looks at me curiously,

"Not yours?" I shake my head furiously,

"No way. Spent the afternoon in the ER." Johnny nods and I return,

"It there was one moment you could erase, what would it be?"

"Your parents wouldn't have died." I shove him playfully,

"Can't you stop being a martyr for one minute?"

"Like your one to talk. I wanna see the worst scar."

"If you show me yours." Heads snap, apparently they had caught that last part. My ears turn red and I mutter, "You guys are perverted." They chuckle and my ears go even redder. I decide to ignore them and turn back to Johnny with a challenging look. He bites his lip for a moment but finally nods. I lift my shirt up and traced a long jagged scar that was fading. It doesn't look that bad now. "I thought I was gonna bleed to death." Johnny looked at the line,

"He knifed you?" Heads turn again, but I'm talking to Johnny. I nod,

"He didn't get drunk often, but when he did…I almost always ended up in the ER for stitches or a cast or a slight concussion. I'm officially banned from climbing. I have a bad habit of falling." I roll my eyes and Johnny grimaces,

"That's not a very good stitch job right there." He comments.

"Sorry" I reply sarcastically, "I was kind of light headed and woozy, my stitching wasn't that great. You promised." Johnny nods and pulls the corner of his shirt over to reveal a small line. "I remember that." I say, looking at it carefully, "That was the first time you let me stitch you up, not exactly my best work."

"Well, it was better you than the doctors." He shudders and I burst out laughing. The gang looks at me in confusion until I choke out finally,

"Johnny, ain't it ever struck you as funny? You'll take a whipping with a two-by-four without a word, but God forbid anyone come near you with a needle."

"You aren't any better! I saw you looking at that needle like it may bite! You're just as bad as me!" Johnny argues violently. The gang is still silent. They aren't used to the two of us fighting, or talking too much for that matter.

"I never said I wasn't…but glory!" I chuckle and soon Johnny joins in. When we stop we blush because the gang is still staring.

"Ok…" Steve says slowly, and then the rest of the gang turns back to the game. I motion to Johnny and take his wrists in my hand, drawing along the slash marks nobody else noticed.

"You really got this desperate?" I ask, my voice full of pain. He whispers back,

"Don't…don't tell the others…I mean…you must've tried it too…" he begs. I say in a low voice,

"Razors pain you; rivers are damp; acids stain you; and drugs cause cramp. Guns aren't lawful; nooses give; gas smells awful; you might as well live."

"Where'd you get that?"

"Some chick named Dorothy Parker wrote it, it's called 'Resume'. I found it one day, and figured she was right. Besides…killing myself…it seemed like I was letting him win." Johnny says quietly,

"One of the few times your stubborn pride was actually useful." I grin and nod. Johnny smirks at me and says in a quiet voice,

"Hey, let's join the game." I smirk. Before I left we had worked out a way to win, it was technically cheating, but the whole gang did that.

"I don't know how, but those kids are cheating!" Steve exclaims, after Johnny and I had won everything on the table. We proceed to gather up all the candy and smokes. We sit down on the couch and start divvying up the spoils between the two of us. The gang looks at us until Soda asks,

"What're you doing?"

"Splitting it." I say simply, because it seems pretty obvious.

"Ponyboy, you better not smoke all those cigarettes or eat all those cookies in one sitting." I didn't bother to mention that I had given up smoking for the most part. I only kept twelve cigarettes for emergencies and Johnny gave me most of the cookies.

"Alright, Darry."

"Tell us how you did it." Dally demands. We look at each other and look back at him. I act the picture of innocence.

"Did what, Dally?" I look at him in confusion and turn to Johnny, "What did we do?" He shrugs unknowingly, but he's a bad liar and a smile escapes his lips. Dally smacks me upside the head and scolds,

"Just 'cause you're good at lying doesn't mean you should." I scowl at Johnny and say,

"Next time we come up with a brilliant plan, remind me to not let you in on it." He shrugs,

"Sorry Pony"

"We'll do better next time." I say confidently. Darry gives me a reproachful look and I sink into the couch and mutter,

"You guys let me deal. I…kind of…memorized where the cards were and dealt in a not-so-random way, so you guys got all the bad cards and Johnny and I all the good ones." I mutter. They stare for a minute,

"You know, I never thought somebody could do that." Two-Bit shrugs, then we turn as Darry calls for dinner, the whole incident forgotten. Except for Mr. Harrison, who's scribbling away in that little notebook of his. He's so silent I think most of the gang forgets he's here. They do that sometimes with Johnny and me too, not that we mind. I make it my silent mission to become endearing to the guy, so that he won't be able to split us up if it would make me unhappy. I will make him see my brothers are good at this. I'll be perfect, I promise myself; we'll make this work. I won't go back there. I won't.


	14. Chapter 14

AN: Hey guys, thank you for all the great reviews and constructive criticisms and stuff. Here's the next installment. I think I'm going to wrap this story up after the trial and maybe do a sequel. Or should i just do an epilogue? Your decision...

Disclaimer: See that word? That means i don't own anything. Well, i own things, just not these characters...or a boat...or a Corvette...or a, you know what? You get the point.

Chapter 14

I brought I the mail after taking out the trash. I flipped through the envelopes until one in particular caught my eye. It said 'To the Parent or Guardian of Ponyboy Curtis' on it in big letters. I put the rest of the mail on the counter, continuing to stare at the envelope. "Darry, mail!" I call finally.

Darry walks into the room and looks at me curiously, taking the envelope out of my hand. He opens it and scans it quickly, then says to me with a proud smile, "They're going to pass you on the seventh grade and let you skip into the ninth." I smile shyly and he puts the envelope down, patting my shoulder. He praises me quietly, "Nice job, kid. Wait 'til Soda hears this." I duck my head down and ask in concern,

"You don't think…I don't wanna make him feel bad…"

Darry comforts me with an assuring, "Honey, he'll be so proud of you." I grin then and turn to Mr. Harrison,

"I was gonna make lunch, do you want some?" He nods his head distractedly; I turn and open the refrigerator, digging around for something to make. Darry informs me quietly,

'You don't have to do that, Pone, I would've made you something."

"That's ok," I reply, "you've got to go to work tomorrow, I might as well help out while I can. I'm going to finish up this year in the seventh grade, right? Next school year will be in the ninth?"

Darry nods in agreement, "Yeah, the year is almost over anyways. It's already April. You're starting on Monday." Today was Saturday, that's why Darry was home. Soda was at work, and until I went back to school they couldn't very well leave me home alone. That wouldn't look very good. I can't stand the thought of Soda working a part-time job. He can barely keep up with school, who can blame him? He's only fifteen. He shouldn't have to work this hard, but then Darry shouldn't either. He's got two jobs lined up starting tomorrow; Two-Bit's going to come spend the day because both of my brothers will be at work. I'm going to be babysat constantly, I suppose. I turn as the door opens and Johnny walks in.

"Hey Johnny," I greet him, "perfect timing, I was just making lunch." I produce my masterpiece and Johnny smirks,

"When'd you learn to cook?" I shrug and respond vaguely,

"You pick it up." I don't explain myself as I hand off plates to them. I try eating everything of the small portion I gave myself. Lord, but I want more. I control myself though; I have to work up to the bigger portions. Johnny looks at Mr. Harrison sideways, inspecting him curiously. He's still a new addition; it's only been four days since he got here. Mr. Harrison barely ever says a word to us, but he's almost always scribbling notes down on his little notebook.

"You wanna head over to the Nightly Double? I hear they have some new movies playing." Johnny asks me. I turn to Darry with a pleading look. He looks pensive for a moment but finally agrees with a reluctant nod,

"Since it's not a school night." He concedes and then adds, "But I want you home before eleven, understood?" I nod obediently and Johnny and I hurriedly put our plates in the sink, racing out of the house.

"You don't even have a coat on!" Darry calls after me in annoyance. Johnny and I laugh, moseying down the street easily and slipping through the fence to the movies, which proves a bit difficult with a cast on my leg. We forgot to bring money.

I glace at Johnny as we head home. He looks nervous, he hears the footsteps too. "Well, well, well. Look at what we've got here. A couple of greaser-babies!" A deep voice booms in laughter, other fits of laughter follow. Johnny and I turn slowly, positioning ourselves in threatening stances. The Socs, all six of them, surround us with sneers on their faces. I narrow my eyes and I feel Johnny slouch more beside me. When a fist comes flying towards us, we know exactly what to do. It isn't easy fighting off three of them each, especially with my leg in a cast and me being on crutches. I actually turn that into an advantage as I start bashing my wooden crutch on the unsuspecting soc. I bet they thought this would be easy. As if. Johnny and I manage to fight them off finally and then we look at each other with wry smirks as they run off with their tails between their legs (figure of speech, Socs don't have tails…I don't think…). Glory is the gang going to be out for blood. I position myself on my crutches and Johnny limps home beside me. We look at each other for a moment before taking a breath and opening the door cautiously. Just our luck, the whole gang is there. They all stand up on their feet as we walk in and Dallas demands angrily,

"What the hell happened to you two?"

"We got into a bit of a…" Johnny searches for the right word, which I supply,

"Situation" Johnny nods and continues,

"Yeah, a bit of a situation with a couple guys. We took care of it though."

"If you guys won, I'd hate to see the other guys." Two-Bit laughs, but I reply heatedly,

"Well, we did." They stare in shock as Johnny says quietly,

"Yeah, we beat 'em good." Darry shakes his head as he produces a first aid kit,

"Well, let's get you cleaned up." Johnny and I look at each other in confusion,

"Why, we're not hurt that bad." I say finally. Darry raises an eyebrow,

"The two of you look like you've been run over by a bus or two." He tells us. We sigh and sit down, taking turns being patched up by Darry.

"I swear, we can't let the two of you go anywhere by yourself anymore." Dally grumbles, looking us over with fury in his eyes. Johnny and I slouch in shame. Johnny whispers quietly,

"We're alright. They didn't get us too bad, we fought 'em of fine." I nod eagerly.

"Still." Dallas replies simply, meaning 'end of conversation'. I lean against the couch tiredly. Mr. Harrison is looking at me in something that could almost be called pity.

"Are you alright? Who did this?" I return with an innocent look,

"I'm fine. It was just a couple of high school kids on the football team looking for a way to keep themselves busy." Mr. Harrison scowls,

"And bullying around a bunch of kids seemed like a good way to do that?" I shrug and say in my best endearing voice,

"Boys will be boys." He frowns and mutters,

"I've always hated that saying." I nod,

"Me too, unless it lets me get away with something…" Mr. Harrison grins at me. I might actually be good at this whole 'wrap the guy around my finger' thing. Who knew?

AN: Read, review, and keep me happy. Happy authors write good stories, sad authors...not so much. Thank you!


	15. Chapter 15

AN: Hey, guys I'm really really really etc. sorry that i haven't updated as often as usual, but i'm on vacation and it was HELL trying to get internet access. I finally got it though. Just don't ask questions, i can't tell you or i might be brought in for hooking up to somebody else's wireless without their permission. Ah...not that i did that... Anywho, the story is finally here! Read! Review! Write stories for me to read! Thanx.

Chapter 15

Darry pulls the truck up to the front of the school and I look at it skeptically. I give him one last look, to which he orders abruptly,

"Nice try, kiddo, but get to class." I reluctantly hop out of the car and awkwardly make my way down the hallway. A lot of people are staring at me like they've never seen me before. I don't think they expected I would ever be back here. I think the story was covered by a couple newspapers and was probably in the news, but my brothers never said anything and I haven't seen any newspapers recently. I look for room 237, Ms. Harlan. I finally find the room and hand her the note explaining how I'm new and she'll need to help me catch up probably and all that stuff. She smiles at me kindly and motions to a seat in the front.

"You feel free to move if you want after your cast is off." She says, "I just don't want you having too much trouble getting in and out of here." I nod silently and smile shyly, setting my things down at the desk and taking my seat. I, unlike most of the other kids here, don't really have any friends in this grade. I mostly hang out with the gang; they're all in high school. It's all right though, I've become used to loning it. The bell rings and students scurry in, talking rambunctiously and sitting in their seats after a few moments of bustling. Ms. Harlan stands up and smiles down at her students. "Good morning, everybody."

"Good morning Ms. Harlan." The class choruses back brightly, obviously a daily ritual.

"Today we have a student returning to us. I'm sure you all know him, but for those who don't, this is Ponyboy Curtis." She motions to me and this time there's no laughter. People are used to my odd name here. They look at me, probably wondering if the stories are true. I'm almost curious as to what they say. They turn their attention back to the teacher as she releases us into group reading. I've come in time for the new book, The True Confessions of Charlotte Doyle. Oh boy. Some kids from my neighborhood pull chairs up next to me. I expect this because greasers usually work with me when they want a good grade but don't want to actually work. They smirk at me as we bring out our books and I nod curtly back. We talk in low voices; they fill me in casually about the recent happenings on the North Side. Then we take turns reading paragraphs when Ms. Harlan comes around. We figure we might as well continue after we've started and get through the first twenty pages by the time she tells us it's time to switch to math. We gratefully put down our books, it's truthfully not all that exciting of a story, and arrange the room back to its previous position. I write careful notes about integers, taking in the information as best I can. I remind myself to ask Darry about it later. I don't see how you can have less than nothing.

At lunch I sit quietly by myself, eating between pages of Oliver Twist. I thought to bring a book with me this morning, for which I am grateful. I dump the plastic plate in the garbage as the bell rings and dog-ear my page. Upon returning to class we are told to bring out our history textbooks and read about the War of 1812. After that we talked about the structure of the atom for science. At one o'clock we leave class and go to gym class. Everyday at this time we do something different. Monday is gym, Tuesday we go to library, Wednesday there's art, Thursday we have music, and Friday the guys go to woodshop while the girls have home ec. I actually don't get to participate in gym because of my cast. I'm getting the thing off in a week. I honestly can't wait. I sit in the bleachers and watch my classmates run around the gym and play dodge ball. Then there's only five minutes left of school, we go back to our classroom to get our stuff before the bell rings. Ms. Harlan announces homework while she still has the chance. Once the bell rings, the building full of mostly well-behaved children turns into a free-for-all chaotic state as kids stampede out of the building, finally released to be with their friends in an unconfined setting. I make my way out of the building as the hallways gradually clear. Soda's leaning against the wall with an annoyed-looking Steve at his side. Johnny's there as well. I work my way toward them silently. Soda shifts off the wall, Steve turns to start walking and Johnny smiles at me welcomingly. I smile back,

"Hey Johnny," I greet him quietly, "how's it going?"

"Can't complain," he says with a shrug, "I gotta figure something about finding 'x' for math…"

I smile and say, "Let me look at it. Hey, do you understand integers? How can you have less than nothing?"

Johnny smiles, "Yeah, that annoyed me too. I guess you just…can."

I roll my eyes and say sarcastically, "Gee, thanks, that helps. I guess I'll ask Darry or something. He's not going to be home 'til later, though, so I'll help you out."

"Do you know anything about finding variables?" Steve says snidely.

Soda shoves him roughly, "Aw, let him alone. He's a genius, after all." Steve scoffs and I lower my head from habit. A Corvair drives by and the boys inside shout at us

"Greasers!" Steve and Soda act as if nothing has happened while Johnny tenses. We get home within a couple minutes and Soda and Steve sit down at a small table, starting to deal cards. Poker. Johnny and I sit down at the kitchen table, pulling homework out of our bags. Mr. Harrison is in the kitchen with a cup of coffee.

"Hello, Mr. Harrison." I greet him politely. He nods in response and I feel watched as we sit down. I pull my chair next to Johnny's and look at the problems.

"Ok, so you want to get the letter by itself." I start to explain to him, "So, in this one the problem is 6x – 11 13. First you bring the eleven over to the right by adding it to thirteen. That's twenty-four. Then you divide by six to get x alone, so your answer is four." I draw it out for him and he nods slowly.

"I think" Johnny says with an apologetic look, "if you do one more I'll be able to do the rest." I nod and begin the next one before starting answering questions for history and filling out a worksheet on atoms. I do the math homework skeptically and look up at Mr. Harrison with sudden inspiration.

"Hey, can you look at this?" He seems surprised by the request, but he looks at my work carefully. When he hands it back he says simply,

"It's all right."

"I thought you didn't understand it." Johnny points out accusingly.

"I don't understand the concept." I reply, then turn to Mr. Harrison, "How can a person have less than nothing?" He looks as if he's trying to find a way to explain it.

"Well, you know that adults have bank accounts and checking books, right?" He begins, to which we nod. "Sometimes adults forget how much money they have in their accounts and they'll write out a check for more money than they actually have, so they owe money. Let's say a person has a hundred dollars and they write out a check for a hundred and thirty-five. The bank doesn't say he owes thirty-five dollars, they simply say that the account has negative thirty-five dollars in it."

"That makes sense." I say, "Thanks." Mr. Harrison nods and leaves the kitchen.

"He's an alright guy." Johnny observes after Mr. Harrison is gone, "He's nice enough, even if he don't have that much to say." I raise my eyebrow at the irony of this statement and Johnny defends, "Well, adults are supposed to talk!" I shake my head and jump up to answer the phone as it begins to ring.

"Hello?" Darry's voice comes back through the phone,

"Hey Ponyboy, I just called to make sure you were home. We've got an appointment with an attorney today when I get home. Is your homework done?" I walk over to the opening and look at Soda, who looks at me curiously.

"Yeah, Darry, I did my homework." Soda gets the clue and runs to get his book bag. Steve slouches in his chair and looks around for something to do.

"What about Soda?" Darry asks, "Has he done his?"

"He's doing it now." I respond.

Darry continues, "Good, good. I'll be home by five. We'll eat dinner and go to the office, the appointment is at six. Tell Soda to get his homework done by the time I get home or he's going to stay behind to finish it." Darry and Soda are avoiding each other for the most part. They don't want to have a blowout in front of the state worker. It's only a matter of time though, with all the guilt and blame Soda has stored up inside of him over me. Soda was never able to hold a grudge before.

I respond tiredly, "Alright, Darry. Go back to work. I'll make dinner so you don't have to."

"Thanks Pone." I sigh and hang up. I remember Darry's command and yell over my shoulder,

"Soda, I've got to go to some appointment with an attorney at six. Darry says if your homework isn't done when he gets home you can't come." Soda slams the door and stomps into the kitchen, sitting down and explaining shortly,

"I can't concentrate in the room." I nod and start digging around for pans. I fill one with water and set it on the stove for it to boil. The other is smaller and I fill it with sauce. Then I find some pasta to put in the boiling pot. I find some bread and manage to make garlic bread, which I stick in the oven. Soda continues to work diligently even as I set the table and prepare to take the food out and put it on the table. Soda shuts his last book just as I pull the garlic bread out of the stove and the door shuts. Johnny stares wide-eyed at the food and Darry stops when he sees it. I set the pans on the table and say in a snobbish voice,

"Dinner is served." Darry smiles and we all sit around the table. Darry and Mr. Harrison sit at either end of the table, Soda and I sit on the left and Johnny and Steve sit on the right. We make up our bowls and eat. I must say, it's pretty good. After we've finished, Darry stands up and starts gathering dishes.

"The chef," He says sternly as I stand to help, "never cleans up. C'mon, Soda." Soda gets up and the two of them clean up the kitchen as Steve and Johnny leave to go home. After that Soda, Darry, Mr. Harrison, and I pile into the car and Darry drives us to the office, which is thankfully in middle-class territory. I don't think I'd like to have a Soc attorney. We sit in the waiting room as Darry speaks with the secretary. Soon a woman comes out and calls us into the office.

She leads us down a corridor and into a room with a big wooden desk. Chairs sit before it neatly and a woman looks up from paperwork and rises to meet us.

"Do come in," she exclaims happily, "I've been preparing for you." She shakes Darry's hand as he offers it and we all sit down in the seat. She sits back behind her desk. She folds her hands on top of the desk as the door closes. She looks at me and says gently,

"I'm Ms. Sueno. You must be Ponyboy." I nod and she continues, "Now, we're going to try to build a case for your brother to be guardian and for Mr. Lilc to go to jail. Before we start though, you and I must come to an agreement. I need you to cooperate to the fullest extent and tell me as much as you possibly can. I may also need you to go to a psychiatrist to prove that the experience has traumatized you and such. Do we have an agreement?"

I nod, "I don't want to go back there…" She smiles warmly and takes out a pad of paper,

"I need you to tell me about the months you spent with Mr. Lilc. Of course, we only have an hour session every day, so we're going to start and see where we get. Then we'll continue tomorrow." Can I really do this? It's painful to relive. The flashbacks and nightmares that plague me constantly terrorize me without having to talk about it. Can I really explain everything, with my brothers sitting right there? They're already guilty enough. I remind myself forcefully, _I won't go back there._ I take in a breath and begin in a shaky voice,

"The first time I knew something was wrong was on the car ride home. He pulled into a brothel and paid his 'wife', who got out of the car. Then he told me she was a whore and he had a record. I asked him what he was going to do with me and he punched me across the face…"


	16. Chapter 16

AN: Ok, guys. Bad news and good news. First, I'm only going to put up two more chapters to wrap up this story. The good news is that i'm going to seriously consider doing a sequel. Tell me your thoughts about this. Would i just be dragging a story out?

Chapter 16

I lay in my bed quietly and tensely, controlling my breathing sternly. My brothers are silent for a moment longer, making sure I am asleep. Then they leave my room and shut the door quietly. "Darry," Soda whispers in a small voice, "I don't know if I can go there with you again. I don't know if I can listen to that. I don't know…" his voice breaks miserably.

"I know, little buddy," Darry comforts softly, "but we have to be there, for Ponyboy."

"Why are you all of a sudden into 'being there' for either of us?" Soda demands angrily, "What? Suddenly you care? We don't need your pity; so if you're doing this just because you feel bad for Ponyboy, stop wasting our time. I can take care of him. We can do just fine without you."

Darry says in a low, stern voice, "Soda, calm down. You're going to wake him up. We'll talk about this later."

"We'll talk about it now!" Soda responds furiously.

"Sodapop Patrick Curtis! You watch yourself!"

"You can't tell me what to do! You're not my-" suddenly he breaks off, realizing what he was about to say. Soda just slams the door to our room and I sit up instinctively, even though I know I'm safe. He winces and says quietly,

"I'm sorry, honey." I lay down as his arm closes around me.

"You've got nothing to be sorry for." I snuggle closer to Soda and say in a tired voice, "Soda, I don't blame you. I don't blame Darry either. Don't fight…please don't fight…" His arm tightens around me and he whispers into my hair.

"Go to sleep, Ponyboy."

"Promise me," I beg him, tugging at his arm, "say you won't fight with him anymore. You two never fight."

"Give me some time, sweetheart, I'll be able to forgive myself and Darry in time."

"You didn't do anything." I assert sleepily before pressing against him and falling asleep.

The next day we sit through dinner at a noticeably slower pace, trying to stall the inevitable. Soda made dinner tonight so Darry and I do dishes. I frown and whine,

"Mr. Harrison doesn't have to do dishes." I point out.

"Mr. Harrison," Darry says firmly, "doesn't have to live here, either." I sigh and set about sloshing the dishes around methodically. I wash the dishes without really thinking about it until Darry shouts in alarm,

"Jeez, Ponyboy, look at the mess you've made!" I look at the water on the floor and say while still staring at the floor,

"Sorry Darry." I get some towels to clean it off. I always made that big of a mess when I did dishes, it was my quiet rebellion. And if I got lucky maybe he'd trip and fall and break his neck. There's always hope. If not, at least it was my own fault when I got a whipping. I clean off the floor completely before we pile into the car.

"Last night I realized it would take too much time to relive every moment of ten months. So, Ponyboy, let's just talk today and see what we find." Ms. Sueno says kindly. I lean against the seat and say in a pensive voice,

"Habit's a funny thing." I know they're awaiting an explanation. "Every night, a curl up against the wall. Not because it's comfortable or anything, but because it's the _safe_ place to be. When people come too close, I tense, even though I know they're not going to smack me. I flinch whenever people raise a hand, even if it's in class to answer a question. I still slam doors and make a mess when I do the dishes…"

"What does that last one have to do with your adoptive father?" Ms. Sueno asks in confusion. I smile slightly,

"My own pathetic form of revenge. My way of telling him, 'come on and smack me'. Or at least giving it a reason when he did. It isn't so bad, when you can blame it on something. If you can say to yourself 'well, if I hadn't' or 'I should have', then it's ok in some part of you. You're in control. The worst ones are when you can't for the life of you say anything that you did wrong. So you do things that will upset them on purpose, until you just do them automatically. Then you can say 'Well, if I'd stop slamming the door' or 'if I didn't walk so loudly' or 'he wouldn't have done that if I had remembered to take out the trash'." I wave my hand vaguely, "There you go, it's your own fault and you can keep on living without ever thinking you're actually being abused. Because, after all, in some weird twisted way, you deserved it." I smirk a little bit, "That's my theory anyway." She's writing furiously, scribbling line after line and I struggle not to look at my brothers.

"Alright, now I'm just going to ask you for things that he's done. We'll make this easier for you by me suggesting things and you can confirm or deny in any way you wish." I nod and Ms. Sueno begins. "Have you been spanked bare-handed?"

"Yeah, although you might have to arrest half the human race for doing that." I reply with a soft smile. She smiled a bit and checks it off,

"Belted?" I nod. "Could you list other things you've been hit with?" She says apologetically.

"Let's see: big wooden spoons, rolling pins, rods, metal poles, chains, boards paddles, sticks, brooms," I tick off on my fingers, then try to think of anything I've missed, "vases, lamps, chairs-"

"CHAIRS?" Soda interrupts with incredulity. I nod and continue,

"Um…trash cans, vacuum attachments, a crowbar, and I think that'll cover it."

"Has he ever shoved you down stairs?" Ms. Sueno asks after a short pause of recovering herself from my long list. I nod and she writes it down. "Have you ever been slammed into hard surfaces? Name those you have been forced to collide with." I smirk at her word choice and think about my many beatings.

"Well, obviously I've encountered several floors and walls." I begin with a joke. "But my face has rammed into a couple tables and tubs and toilets and dashboards in its time." She nods.

"Now, the charges for sleep and food deprivation, can you please expand on that?" I sigh, not wanting to go over the details of this.

"Food was a weapon. I made the meals, he ate them and I got whatever was left, like you feed a stray dog. Sometimes he'd throw the remaining food away instead, or leave it for the dogs. He loved those dogs. Anyway, usually I was all right. You forget you're hungry after awhile, until you're fed again. But after a certain point you can't function without food anymore."

"How much time does it take for you?"

"Usually I can go about a week before I start getting desperate. Stealing food from the dogs and digging through the garbage cans." I look at the floor in shame, "Shoplifting from the supermarkets during school when I skipped." I can't look at my brothers now.

Ms. Sueno says comfortingly, "You were trying to survive, Ponyboy, it's alright." I nod and continue on,

"Anyway, after I'd been starved sufficiently, he'd sit me down and give me a lot of food, I'd puke the rest of the day. The sleep, well, between the nightmares and the guys who…came for me…I'd get two to six hours a night, depending." I say quietly, "I usually walked around looking like a Holocaust victim."

"Ok, Ponyboy, this is good. I'm just going to ask you one more question and we'll be done for the day. Verbal abuse, I need to know what kind of things he said to you."

"He never called me by my name. I was 'boy', 'the boy' to others, and when he was mad I was whatever combination of swears he could think up. He ranted at me all the time, screamed for hours about how I was a retard and useless and stupid. How he could murder me in cold blood and nobody would care. He said the world didn't care about a cruddy orphan that was only going to be a JD some day. Nobody wanted me around and my parents…" my voice breaks and I struggle to regain composure, "killed themselves to get away from me." I finish, tears leaking out of my eyes. Soda's arms find their way around me immediately.

"Oh, baby, that's not true…you know it isn't. Mom and Dad loved you…they loved you more than anything in the world. I care, honey."

"We care." Darry says as his hand rests firmly on my shoulder. I take a deep breath to recover myself. I wipe my tears with embarrassment.

"Sorry" I say, "I don't know why I burst into tears like that…"

Soda soothes me in a quiet voice, "It's ok to cry, hon."

Darry says in a low growl, "If I ever see that man, I don't think I can be responsible for what I do to him…"

"Well you're going to see him at the trial." Ms. Sueno says sternly, "And you cannot do anything, Darrell, or I'll have to ask you to simply not come." I look at Darry in terror.

"I…" I begin in a fearful voice, "I don't think I can do this myself." The mere thought sends a shiver up my spine, making me shudder in fear. Soda's grasp on me tightens.

"Alright, easy honey. I promise not to do anything to him." Darry grumbles grudgingly. Soda nods his consent and says under his breath,

"Golly, aren't we going to have a time convincing the boys, though." We chuckle as we stand to leave. I hate these sessions; they drown me out emotionally and make me tired. I go to bed right after them, at seven or seven-thirty. That's really early for me. Even at Mr. Lilc's I wasn't sent to bed until eight, awaking at all hours of the night afterwards. Now I might as well pass out. I don't move unless I have a nightmare. I wake up from those with a muffled scream and both of my brothers on either side of me. I sure could get used to this, that's for sure. Then again, I got used to the other life too. So maybe that saying isn't exactly the best one. I give up searching for a better one as my eyes close heavily. When I wake up the next morning, I'm in bed next to Sodapop. Darry must've carried me in here, I didn't even wake up.


	17. Chapter 17

AN: Hey, I just realized i made a mistake. Since Pony turns thirteen in late August, he goes into eighth grade. So, instead of him going seventh, skipping eighth, and into tenth; he goes eighth, skips ninth, and into tenth. Get it? Sorry about the mix up.

Chapter 17

**Two Weeks Later**

"Ok Ponyboy today is our last session before the trial." I gulp and nod silently at Ms. Sueno's reminder. "Today we're going to start with the holidays, how you spent them." I smirk a bit.

"Alright, the first was my birthday in August. Two days before I had gone to visit Soda and my friends and I came back on my birthday. When he came home, he beat me with the crowbar and my leg snapped. I spent the afternoon in the ER." Soda looks so guilty that I have to reach over and squeeze his hand gently, "It wasn't your fault. You didn't know." I tell him firmly. He nods tightly. I sigh and continue in a soft voice. "Halloween I ate candy all night and was throwing up for two days. He hadn't given me anything for a week and a half for preparation. Thanksgiving he made me sit and watch him eat. I didn't get any of it. He made me throw it away." My voice cracks at the memory of my consuming hunger. I clear my throat. "I spent Christmas Eve in the bathtub. The water was so cold…I shivered until I was exhausted and I fell asleep. I didn't even care that I could slip under the water and drown. I was so tired. Christmas morning he dragged me out and tied me up outside. Got hypothermia and pneumonia after that for the second time. I knew better than to get out, though. I knew what happens…" I break off and gather myself for a moment. "New Years was hell. People were in the celebrating mood. Lots of customers came and I spent the next three days in the basement without breaks, even after I passed out he'd just send in the new people and I'd wake up with new people lighting on me. Valentine's Day I sat through one of his longer rants about how nobody loved me, and then he tried to…" I point to the fingerprints at my throat, "strangle me for the first time." I end with a rub at my neck from the flashback of that day.

Ms. Sueno looks at me and says in a voice full of emotion, "Ponyboy, I'm going to win this for you. I'm going to do all I can, because I truly believe that you deserve to be happy and that that monster deserves to be locked up until the day he dies."

"Thank you." Soda says for me, "You don't know how much this means to us. I…we can't sit by and watch them take him away, even if he wouldn't be going back to that. As much as he needs us, we need him too." I snort and grumble,

"What do you need me for? I don't do anything."

"Yes you do," Darry says, and he sits beside me. "You know, I wasn't even happy at college. I'm your big brother, both of you. I'm used to being able to make everything better, to fix it. I was powerless against their deaths. I thought that I couldn't help you anymore. That killed me. I'm so used to being needed. I need to be needed." It's painful for Darry to admit his emotions, which makes this statement all the more powerful. Soda clears his throat,

"And I was dying on the inside, even with all my friends around. You were my baby, Ponyboy, always. I don't think there's a heart on this planet as capable of love as yours. The sheer quality and quantity of your love can't be matched, not by the whole gang together. I missed it." Soda's confession makes my cheeks burn. I sink into my seat,

"I should have said something. I should have done something. I…I didn't have to just…take it like a freaking coward…" I mutter angrily, realizing they would've helped me. I hadn't thought of that before. Then I realize that they actually cared, finally. It was my revelation, my epiphany. I feel guilty it took me to realize this simple fact. I'm important, not a burden or something to be pitied or a responsibility. They need me too.

"Never think that in any way any of what happened was your fault." Darry commands. I nod and Ms. Sueno clears her throat.

"I'll see you at nine am at court, Ponyboy. Remember, no acting out in court.

**The Next Day at Court**

I sit in my seat nervously as the courtroom fills slowly. I'm sitting at the desk labeled 'Prosecution' with Ms. Sueno at my side. The gang is sitting three rows behind me. There was a great amount of yelling at that when we were told I'd have to sit up there alone, mostly my brothers and Dally and Two-Bit. Right now I'm ok, though. The doors open and three policemen lead in Mr. Lilc, hands bound with chains. He towers over them threateningly and looks hard, angry. He stops short before the desks and glances briefly at me. That one look, a look of complete and unaltered loathing and hatred, makes me lower my head and shake uncontrollably. Ms. Sueno puts her hand on my shoulder comfortingly and I ease myself after several deep breaths. I hear him snicker slightly as he sits down next to his brother at the 'Defense' table. The policemen stand to the side. The bailiff comes out and shouts forcefully,

"All rise for the honorable Judge Smithens!" The entire courtroom rises immediately and stands as a portly man in a black robe makes his way to the bench and sits down.

"Be seated" he calls distractedly as he sets about moving stacks of paper. There is a great noise for a moment as we situate ourselves again. He looks at us and motions to Ms. Sueno. "Counselor, please give an opening statement." My attorney rises gracefully and stands so that she is facing the jurors.

"Ponyboy Curtis is the boy sitting right there." She points to me and I blush, sinking into my seat. "Does that small child look deserving of any form of physical punishment? Because he looks to me like a strong wind could blow him over. But you will hear reports today that will contest that this sweet child was punished for reasons. They are going to try to explain away making this little boy cower in fear; for putting the scars and bruises and burns on his body. I can barely stand to listen to that. I'm sure you're going to make the right decision." With that Ms. Sueno glides across the floor and sits promptly down in her seat. The judge motions to Mr. Lilc's brother. The attorney stands and addresses the jury as well.

"Today we are here," he begins in a low, condemning voice, "because one ungrateful little boy decided to make up tall tales. After his parents died and his brother abandoned him, my client had a kind enough heart to take in the child as his own. He has fed and clothed and cared for this child since his coming to the house. I tell you that the child is fooling you at this very minute. He looks so innocent, doesn't he? He's a thief and a liar and a rebel. My client is a sensible enough man to deliver punishment where it is deserved. If my client is guilty of anything, then let it be the belief in an old-fashioned tanning over this new 'grounding' nonsense." He sits down as grumbling ensues within the court. I turn slightly in my seat. The gang sure does look tuff. Darry's got on a nice pair of jeans and a nice shirt that still does a good job of showing off his abundant muscles. Next to him on the right is Sodapop, his blue jeans and sweater making him look decent, if he hadn't been slouched down and his seat and his hair slathered in hair grease, you might've thought he was a middle-classer. Steve is leaning against him, hair still in complicated swirls and there's no mistaking him for anything but what he is in his ripped up jeans and white muscle shirt. On Darry's left is Two-Bit, elbows resting on the back of the bench with his head tilted up as if he were here resting. But his eyes are staring right at me. He winks and smiles. I shake my head as a small smirk rises to my lips. Blast his ability to make me want to laugh no matter what the situation. Johnny's next to Two-Bit, dressed in his black t-shirt and blue jeans and jacket. He nods at me with a nervous look, even more nervous than usual. Dally's arm is on his shoulder as if he was leaning on him coolly, but I can tell he's trying to keep Johnny calm. Only a greaser could tell that, otherwise it looks like Johnny's being used for an armrest. Dally's looking off into space by the looks of it, but I see him looking over the courtroom as if assessing the situation. He probably is. He's been to court enough.

"Counselor Sueno, do you have a witness?" Ms. Sueno stands and announces,

"The prosecution would like to bring Mrs. Berlin to the stand." My old teacher raises from the pews and sits at the box. She places her hand over the bible and is sworn in.

"Mrs. Berlin, when Ponyboy Curtis was in your class, was there anything you noticed of concern?"

"Yes, several things actually." Mrs. Berlin replies, "He was always so quiet, so respectful of the staff. Almost too obedient, he always seemed terrified. The kids gave him…a respectful distance. And he always had new bruises and showed up with a cast every once in a while."

"Did you ever try to get the school counselor to talk with Ponyboy?"  
"Yes, I did. But Ponyboy is smart, he always said the right thing. He told the councilor that he just got distracted easily and didn't watch where he was going, so he bumped into things and fell down stairs a lot. He explained away his loss of weight on being unable to eat since his parents' death. He was good, that's for sure."

"Thank you, no more questions."

"Counselor Lilc." The mentioned counselor slithers up and examines Mrs. Berlin for a moment.

"Did you ever think," He says in that silky voice of his, "that maybe Mr. Curtis was telling the truth?"  
"It was possible, but not likely."

"Why, if you believed him to be in danger, why would you not report your suspicions?"

"I had nothing to go on until Ponyboy talked."

"But he didn't, did he? Why would he try so hard to stay somewhere if he was being hurt?"

"I don't know," Mrs. Berlin snaps, "you'll have to ask him."

"I plan to." The attorney hisses before turning to sit down again. Mrs. Berlin goes to sit down and I look up at her as she passes.

"Thank you" I whisper. She puts a hand on my shoulder,

"Not a problem." She responds. I smile. The next person is the therapist I had to see. So I had to sit there while she went on and on about my mental unstableness and stuff. How I was unalterably changed for life and stuff. The testifying never ended. Then Mr. Harrison told them that there is no way I can be taken from my brothers. I had actually succeeded in my mission. Person after person went up there, good and bad and indifferent testimonies. People saying I really was a bad kid and some saying that I was an angel. I look up when the defense says,

"Darrell Curtis to the stand." Bad mistake, Mr. Lilc. The gang looks at Darry, who smirks slightly and goes up to the stand. He is sworn in and then the defense paces in front of the box.

"Mr. Curtis, is it true that you of your own free will gave both of your brothers up to the state?"

"Yes sir." Darry says gruffly.

"And why, if your brothers are as important as you now claim, would you give them up?"

"I-I figured that they would be better off without me. I thought that all I could give them was the North Side and that they could go somewhere…where they could have parents and things and…I thought they needed better."

"You mean you've decided they don't need better?"

"I've found out that Ponyboy hadn't gotten better. I realized that I could give them something nobody else could. A real, blood family and love. Those boys don't ask for much. They hardly ever ask a clock for the time of day. But they ask to stay together. If you aren't going to let me have them, at least let them be together. They need each other." Darry's begging. Darry does not beg. He's doing it for us.

"So, why don't you just let Mr. Lilc here take both of the boys? Then the problem would be solved." I glance at Soda for a moment and clench the sides of the chair.

"No" I hiss in fear, "no, no, no, no…not Soda."

"Sh, Ponyboy" Ms. Sueno whispers to me, "it's ok, calm down."

"No, that won't do." Darry says sternly. "I won't let either of them go there. Not over my dead body."

Attorney Lilc waves at Darry impatiently, "Your witness, counselor." Ms. Sueno smiles at him kindly,

"I suppose you've carried yourself very well, Mr. Curtis."  
"Darry, please." Darry returns. Ms. Sueno nods agreeably and continues,

"I've only one question for you. Are you willing to do everything and anything it takes to keep your brothers?"

"Absolutely" Darry replies without hesitation.

"Thank you," Ms. Sueno says, "you may return to your seat." Darry returns after a quick glance at me and a squeeze at my shoulder. I smile at him tightly and nervously. I'm last.

"I'd like to call Ponyboy Curtis to the stand." I go up and swear to tell the truth. Then Ms. Sueno questions me, I answer as clearly as possible. I know my voice is shaking and it won't quit breaking. I'm sweating furiously from nervousness and I have to stop to compose myself every now and then. The gang looks ready to rush up and bring me out of here if I need to. I smile at them reassuringly. Ms. Sueno smiles at me and returns to her seat. The other attorney stands and paces before the box for a moment. Then he turns on me.

"Ponyboy, tell me, how were your grades when you were staying with my client."

"At first I was getting all A's, but after first quarter I failed everything. But that was only-" he didn't let me explain.

"When the counselor asked you about your home life, why would you lie?"

"I…I was afraid. I thought that she'd think I was lying or she wouldn't care. He'd find out. I'd get in trouble." I respond meekly.

"So you lied instead. If you lied about that, what else could you be lying about? Have you ever run away?"  
"Well, I left without asking once, but-" again I was cut off before I could finish.

"Have you disobeyed your adoptive father?"

"I don't on purpose, but sometimes I forget things." I say with my head tilted down.

"Have you stole?"

"Yeah-" I was about to tell him I didn't want to, but again he demands,

"So you lied, stole, ran off, disobeyed him, and failed school expecting not to be punished?"

"No, you don't understand, I-" I try to find a way to explain this. It makes me sound bad. The attorney glares at me for a moment.

"I understand well enough. Your parents are gone and you want attention. Well, young man, this is the wrong way to go about it. All you're receiving is bad attention and pity. There are other ways to make people notice you, ways that solicit praise over punishment. I think that what you need least is to be in a coddling environment. You'll never get over the loss if all people do is baby you. You're thirteen, no longer a child." With that said he turns and storms back to his seat. I'm shaking with rage and fear by this point.

"There will be a half-hour recess for the jury to make its decision. Court dismissed." Judge Smithens calls. I walk briskly over to the gang. I somehow find myself between my two brothers, both sling an arm around me and we walk outside the courthouse, sitting on the steps and the boys take a smoke.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18 (THE LAST ONE)

"Hey, Pony?" Soda begins uncomfortably.

"Yeah?" I say lazily, watching the others smoke and finally giving in. "Hey, can I have one?"

"I thought you didn't smoke anymore." Soda says accusingly.

"Sometimes I still smoke, just to calm my nerves…"

"You must've smoked a lot." Two-Bit grins at me. I look away.

"Not really."

"I wouldn't either, if I were you." Johnny says quietly, staring at my shoulders. The rest of the gang looks between us before Dally says.

"Alright, Johnny, what do you know that we don't know?"

"The cigarette burns," Johnny asks me, "what happened?"

"Got caught smoking. Burned out the entire pack on me."

"Thought so. What did you do?"

I smirk and say, "I swiped another pack and picked up smoking again, for about two weeks."

"Why?" Johnny asks incredulously. I blow a smoke ring and say forcefully,

"Screw him, that's why." Soda looks at me again,

"I was going to ask you something, before we got off on this tangent."

"What?" I lean forward and look at him intently.

"When…Lilc's attorney asked about having both of us…you really freaked out. I saw you shaking and sweating and muttering something."

"He can't have you." I say forcefully. "I won't let him. I can barely stand he might get me. He won't have you."

"I could protect you, if we were together." Soda argues. I shake my head,

"You don't understand, Soda."

"Make me understand." I look at him for a moment before leaning back.

"You probably already know most people would consider you good-looking." He looks a bit skeptical, but he nods, so I continue. I look at him meaningfully, "So imagine how much money he could make off of you. How much…" I swallow before saying the vile words, "pleasure he could get out of you." I continue, even though most of them look like they're going to be sick. "Soda, you're so full of life and energy and spirit. It would be his idea of fun to turn you into a broken, lifeless, cowering animal. The training, that's the fun part for him. After that, you sort of stop being amusing. When you stop entertaining, he'll kill you." I fall silent then.

"Is that why he ran you into that tree?" Dally asks in a hard voice, "He stopped being interested with you?"

"No, I wasn't fully trained yet. I still had awhile to go before completion. He likes the training and he likes it to last and be a challenge, but he got annoyed with me."

"Nice job, kid." Dallas returns. I smile and Darry announces as he stands,

"Alright, let's get this over with."

We walk back into the courtroom full of apprehension. I sit in my seat as the jurors file in. We go through the motions and then Judge Smithens addresses the panel of jurors. "What is your decision?" One of the jurors stands and declares,

"Guilty, your honor." Judge Smithens nods and says immediately,

"I hereby sentence Hugh Lilc to at least fifteen years in prison." Cheering goes up, but that ends when Mr. Lilc roars and flips the desk over in anger. In one stride he is next to me and he swings his arm to the other side of my body, pulling the chain to my throat in rage before anybody can react.

With the pain pulling at my neck painfully and cutting off air, I yelp and dig at my neck wildly, clawing in an attempt to free myself. His foot slams into the back of my knees and sends me crashing to the floor. I am on my hands and knees, his foot pressing against my back and his chain pulling tighter at my neck. The police are trying to get him off, but they don't want to risk me getting hurt. He has a hostage; he has some power. I feel him cross his hands over each other to encircle my neck completely. "Step back!" He yells at the cops wildly. They don't move. He swings his arms, my head going with them, into a wall. He swings over and over and blood pours down my nose. I hear Soda screaming hysterically,

"Do something! Do something!" I'm trying to get loose. I fight against the restraints and say the words in the voice I had become accustomed. The low, begging, sniveling voice. The broken one without life but with complete needing.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Please stop. Please stop." He sneers at me,

"Shut up." Finally, I suppose the cops come up with an idea, because suddenly I can breathe well again. I rub at my neck for a moment before being crushed by a sobbing Soda and then entrapped in a rib-crunching hug by Darry. I say in a joking voice,

"Can't…breathe." They release me sheepishly and the gang saunters over.

"You're bleeding all over the carpet, kid." Dallas says roughly, handing me a rag. I take it and say automatically,

"Sorry." I hold it to my nose for a moment. "At least it isn't broke." I offer dully. They grunt and we walk out of the courtroom. I look at Darry for a minute and say,

"So…what now?"

AN: So, obviously I've decided to do a sequel. It's going to be called Adjustment. This one will be from Darry's POV about helping a broken Ponyboy and fixing his relationship with Soda, as well as stress with his job and bills and some gang drama. Maybe some Johnny abuse trauma. I might throw in a girlfriend, but i don't want to turn this into a soap opera. Tell me what you think. Thanx. Meg aka Unknown Brilliance.


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